Cassy IV: THE BOOGIE MAN
by Rhondda Lake

Chapter 1
-------------

Dana Scully tied the surgical mask behind her head, over the scrub
hat. The action disguised the hard swallow she took as she crossed the
room to the table and the small form hidden beneath the green sheet. 

She tried to tell herself the clenching in her gut was a natural response 
to the powerful odor filling the room. The body had been exposed to 
the elements for over a month. The smell it exuded was sickly sweet 
and powerful, despite the air filters running at their highest setting. But 
even as she tried to convince herself she knew otherwise. She'd dealt with
worse odors with nothing more then a headache to show for it.

She hated when it was children. Babies who would never see their parents 
again or tease their playmates... those who never had a chance to live.

Scully looked absently towards the door, noticing the looming shadow.
Mulder was outside, waiting.

Cases involving children were almost too much. He was short-tempered 
and irritable, the telltale manifestations of his inner turmoil and heart-weary
grief for children and families he never knew. The families that could have 
been his twenty five years ago. The longer this case dragged on the worse 
he got. He was almost unbearable now.

With a deep breath and angry, hard eyes she folded down the sheet. Reaching 
for her scalpel she began working on the earthly remains of one Becca 
Martin. She would never see her seventh birthday.

                              *
 
Mulder looked up from the case file he had gone over at least twenty
times. It was unnecessary, as he could recall most of it at any time after
going over it once. His constant retracing of the words, the dates and
times, the list of sanitary and impersonal information that drained away
the humanity of the victims was not to memorize them. It was an attempt to
pry some missed smidgen of information. It also was an effort to make 
the children less real, just a list of names and ages.

There was a cold comfort in the distancing, however brief it may be.

He looked down at the profile beside him.. It was filled with what information 
he could glean. White male, between twenty five and thirty five years old. Neat 
and respectable appearance, but something about him that children didn't like. 
Intelligent, fast, with a working knowledge of high tech security systems. In good 
health. Probably good looking. Outsider as a child, most likely picked on by 
other children. 

It wasn't much. He left no fingerprints, not even a single dropped hair 
at the scenes of the abductions, no one has seen him. He never asks for 
ransom. He didn't even prefer any racial, gender, religious or economic 
group for his victims. They came from all walks of life. The only common 
thread was they were all under ten years old.

Scully cleared her throat to get his attention. He looked up at her.
She had removed her gloves and the mask hung loosely around her neck. She
took a seat next to him and pulled off the surgical cap.

"Apparent cardiac arrest. We'll have to wait for the lab work but I'd
lay odds we'll find massive amounts of adrenalin and epinephrine in her
system. About forty days since the time of death."
 
Mulder nodded and swallowed hard. "He kept her two weeks just like the others. 
Not a mark on her, was there?"

"No. No signs of physical or sexual abuse. That girl, like the
others, simply should not have died. There is no apparent cause of death."

"Sure there was, Scully, she was scared to death." Mulder tossed the
profile across the hall in a swift move that startled Scully. Separate
pages fluttered to the floor making rustling noises in the silence. "All
this and we still have nothing. Nothing at all."
 
He picked up a photocopied map of the US. Six blood red dots marked
where kidnaped victims found and positively identified. The blue
dots indicated where those bodies were found. 

There were also twelve yellow dots. Each marked the place where a child
under ten was abducted or was missing in a manner that matched the modus 
operandi of their UNSUB. Twelve little yellow dots spread over the past year 
and  a half in a wide swath from Texas to Virginia. 

Of the bodies they had recovered, three were found in dumpsters, two in 
woodland areas and one floating in a river. The killer never kept a child 
longer then two weeks before he somehow managed to give them all heart 
attacks. Each yellow dot meant a body not found. There were too many yellow 
dots. Too many families lost in the limbo of not knowing.

"He always strikes again two weeks after the death of his last
victim. Two-week cycles. Harold Connaly was taken three weeks and five
days ago. Meaning he is going to strike again in two days, somewhere over
here." He pointed to the wide area that covered Virginia, West Virginia,
Maryland and DC itself. 

"Our neck of the woods. He's working his way north and east. Why?"
She shook her head. He wasn't following any major highway or river, it was
almost random, only slowly making his way to some northeastern
destination."Can you be sure he isn't going to do this again?" She pointed
to two towns, one in Mississippi and one in Kentucky where he had doubled
back.

"No. Dammit, I don't know what made him do it those times. Nothing
ties the Goldman and Rodriguez families. If there was a personal
motivation against those specific families I haven't been able to pinpoint
it." He closed the folder and ran his thumb along side his nose. "I'm
missing something here, Scully. I can feel it. It's right in front of
me.... something so simple... and if I can't figure out my blind spot he's
going to get another kid in two days."
 
Six months ago they were called on this case. They were contacted 
only when it was almost certain that four year old Harold Connely was
dead. The previous agent in charge had been Ken Furguson, he had been
close to retirement. He had also thought Mulder was a distinct 
embarrassment to the Bureau, not to mention certifiable. Furguson had been 
convinced that these kidnapings and deaths were exactly the cut and dried 
case they  appeared to be on the surface. 

Ken Furguson had been found dead in his sleep of a heart attack seven weeks 
ago. An irony lost on no one and one that made his assigned partner for this 
case suspicious. Furguson had been an asshole, but he was an asshole in 
good shape. 

Rumors that the Furguson suffered cardiac arrest because he was forced
to work with Mulder were ignored, for the most part.
 
Luckily Furguson's partner for this particular case was Don Jenkins.
Agent Jenkins was one of the few friends Mulder had inside the 
bureau. Jenkins had convinced Assistant Director Skinner that there 
was enough strangeness in this case to qualify it as an X-File. 

As if her thoughts summoned him Special Agent Donald Jenkins walked
through the double doors to the morgue. He scanned the mess in the hall
and immediately gathered up the papers Mulder had thrown. Once they were
in order again he turned to the seated partners. "I take it this means we
don't have anything more on the Boogie Man?"

Chapter 2.
------------------------

The Boogie Man was the only other lead they had. Two of the victims,
one a year ago and one five months ago seemed agitated before their
disappearance. They had both reported seeing the Boogie Man. It seemed that
in some depraved cosmic irony, the Boogie Man really was after them.

Scully shook her head. "No, nothing new."

"Meaning we can't do a damned thing until he strikes again." Jenkins
smacked his leg, the sound deafening in the small, sterile hallway. "All
we know is that this kid will be ten or under. I hate this." He looked
rather sheepishly at Mulder's tight, emotionless face. "Hey, I'm not
blaming you. I'm just pissed off at this UNSUB. If you can't get into this
guy's head no one can."

"I'm missing something," Mulder replied flatly.

"Yah, motive and evidence. Anything resembling a pattern, oh and let's
not forget a real cause of death. Hell, should be a simple little thing."
Jenkins snorted. "You're only human. I know you're doing your best, so
does everyone else. Mulder, I don't mean to be harsh, man, but when 
was the last time you slept? You look like death warmed over. Exhaustion
will hardly help you think clearly. "

"Who can sleep? Another kid is gonna die if my best isn't good enough." Mulder
stood, gathered his files and walked out, without another word. 

Scully watched the doors swing behind him for a minute then turned to
Jenkins. 

Donald Jenkins was the perfect All-American poster boy. His buzz cut
blond hair and kindly, crystal blue eyes went with a hard angled, squarish
face. He had a compact body that would have put Stallone to shame. And if
the FBI hadn't dropped their height requirements they'd have lost out on a
fine agent. He barely topped Scully by two inches. And hated the nickname
"Shorty" as much as Mulder hated "Spooky".
 
The first time she had met him she had lamented that the good ones
were always gay or married. Don Jenkins definitely fell into the latter
catagory. 
 
Jenkins shook his head at Mulder's exit. "It looks like we all need
some rest. Right now I want to get home, wake up Kimberly, give her a big
hug and tell her that daddy loves her. I'm... I'm sending her to her
grandmother in Colorado for a while. She is flying out tomorrow
afternoon." Jenkins ran a hand over his spiky hair. "It's silly I know..."

"No, it isn't. Knowing this guy is going to strike in this area in
two days... if I had a child I'd probably do the same thing," Scully
reassured him. "It's only natural."
 
 Jenkins nodded and patted the hand she'd placed on his arm, "Thanks
Dana. Claire thinks I'm over reacting. But she hasn't had to face the
bodies... the families for these past six months."

"Go home, Don, give Kim that hug. I'll see you in the morning." 

                              *

Finding the names of those in charge of investigating him had been
easy. Both times. Furguson was so blind, tracking and eliminating him
was pathetically simple. The man's narrow mindedness made him that 
much more susceptible. 

What had been gathered on Jenkins was perfect, a sign of blessing even. 

After eliminating Furguson,  he had used the same information gathering
trick as before. Disguising himself as a reporter got him the names of the 
agents in charge with a few phone calls. 

It was surprising to find that Jenkins was not taking over as senior agent on 
the case, but was now serving under another. It was time for a bit more recon. 
When Becca had been found he used his reporter disguise to be there, camera 
in hand with a swarm of others. No one noticed he wasn't shooting the dumpster, 
or the body being carted away. His photos were of the agents. Sitting in his
car he looked at the photographs. 

So grim, so determined they all seemed. He liked to know his opponents, find 
their weaknesses, bring them down and savor their fear and pain. It was never 
near as satisfying as his fun with the children, but as he saw keeping them off 
balance as a necessary evil, he might as well enjoy it. 

He was snapped out of his reverie when he spotted his prime target
leave the building. The man's whole body was tense as a coiled spring.
Good. He was wound tight enough manipulation should be rather easy. He
watched the tall man unlock a blue Ford Taurus and get inside. When he
pulled away, his watcher sighed and leaned back in his own car's seat. To
tail him would be to tip him off. He'd most likely be spotted, these
people were trained for such things. But they could not expect or counter
his other method of surveillance. The watcher smiled as he relaxed and
fell into a trance, feeling completely superior to the ordinary mortals
around him.
  
                                               *

Cassandra Troy turned off the Tonight Show with a disgusted press of
a button. Jay was only mildly funny tonight, and something was itching at
her mind, making her restless. Tammy was asleep in her bedroom by now,
maybe it was time she followed suit. She began to take the cushions off
the sofa to pull out her bed when she realized what was bothering her.
Leaving the cushions where they fell she slipped on her sneakers and left
the apartment.

The problem with becoming too close to people when you are an empath,
she thought as she made her way down the stairs to the first floor, is the
closer you get the harder it is to block strong emotions. And man was he
not only pissed, but worried and frustrated all to hell.

She knocked softly on his door. It was opened in moments. He must
have just gotten home. His suit coat was off but he still had a garish
paisley tie hanging loose around his neck. He also had a beer in his hand.
 
"That won't help." She gestured to the beer bottle, " Want to talk
about it?"

"Sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass, Cassy. And I can't talk
about it. I'm not in the mood, goodnight." He almost closed the door on
her. Cassandra Troy did NOT get doors closed in her face by pissy men. She
threw her shoulder into the door and shoved before it closed. He wasn't
expecting that so she managed to fling the door open and get in.

"You do know this could be considered trespassing, and I have a gun,"
he snarled at her.

"So shoot me, yell at me, do SOMETHING other then sit down here stewing in
your own juices till you blow a gasket." She crossed her arms and glared.

"Cassy, I'm tired, I'm preoccupied and if I can't out think someone
in two days another child is going to die. I don't think a quick fuck is
going to make me feel any better." 

He didn't get the slap across his face he was half expecting. He got 
an impressive right cross that slammed his teeth together and knocked 
him off his feet. He must have forgotten that her idea of a fun past time 
was bashing people over the head with big sticks. So much for perfect recall.

She stood above where he lay sprawled, shaking out her hand. "Does
that feel better or do you want me to pound on you some more?" She smiled
over sweetly. "Don't insult me again, Mulder, I don't deserve it. And I
refuse to hit you again. That was the only reason you wanted to piss me
off, wasn't it?"

"Maybe to get into a nice rip roaring fight so you could let off some of 
that nicely compacted anger you've shoved inside somewhere. Well,
you don't deserve to get pounded on for whatever you think you did and if
you still want a fight and a beating take it to a biker bar." She shook her 
right hand, showing injury.

"That is the LAST time I'm rising to the bait. Now," she held out her hand 
and helped him to his feet, "if you really would rather burn yourself out 
then fine, but remember I'm here if you need me." Her face bespoke
her hurt. 

Mulder probed his sore jaw, but managed a grin. "Remind me never to
get into a ring with you."
 
Cassy threw up her arms in a 'why me' gesture before heading to
the kitchen. He followed her and watched her dig out some ice cubes before
folding them into a dish rag. He reached out for the ice pack only to have
it yanked away.

"Get your own. This one's mine." She sat at the table with the
dish rag in front of her before laying her right hand on it, knuckles
down. "I should have known you'd have a hard head."

"Yes, you should." He grabbed the remainder of the ice making his
own pack and holding it to his jaw. "You've seen it enough."

Cassy laughed. "Ok Mulder, but bad jokes do NOT a problem solve.
I'm your friend, at least I thought I was."
 
His eyes darkened. "You're more than that."

She smiled slightly. She wanted to be more then his friend, more then
an occasional lover. But he always held back something of himself 
when she linked to him to heighten the sex. Some emotional part was 
withdrawn and hidden away. To be honest it hurt more then a little. 
"Good, I certainly didn't want to think I was just a convenient lay."

Mulder looked stunned. His ice pack dropped to the floor. "That's
it... how could I have been so stupid... that's the pattern." He rushed
from the kitchen into his living room, pulling out books and flipping
through them to find the pages he remembered.

"Was it something I said?" Cassandra followed him, still holding
her own ice pack over her sore knuckles.

Chapter 3.
------------

Cassandra sat on the arm of his couch watching as he spread out the
books he'd gathered and put a photocopied map of the United States in the
middle of them. The map was covered with different colored dots. 

"If you're looking for the Illustrated Kama Sutra, you already showed
it to me." She removed the ice from her hand to examine her knuckles.
She'd be fine. He, however, looked like he was going to have a bruise. She
blushed. She really was not the abusive type. She wasn't going to excuse
herself with a convenient excuse of his anger leaking out to affect her.
No, she'd hit him on her own. Now she was beginning to feel guilty. 

He held up a book, looking from it to the map on the table and back
before he tore a piece of tracing paper from a pad he'd also taken from
the shelf and began drawing a pattern in yellow hilighter. "That's IT!
He's following this series of ley lines, taking those kids at certain
junctions, and leaving the bodies along the lines themselves. Here and
here, he doubled back to follow those shorter lines." He looked up,
something dangerous and exhilarating in his eyes. "Cassy, I could kiss
you." He lay the hilighter tracing over the map and it appeared like a mad
connect the dots game.
 
Something raised the hairs on the back of her neck, pushing at the edge of 
her awareness. She didn't know much about this case of his. He rarely spoke 
of any case he was currently involved in. He often withdrew from her 
and everyone when a case was especially difficult or personal. Lately a shelled 
turtle was more social than he was. But he'd mentioned kids. Oh Lord, anything 
involving kids, especially missing kids... no wonder he was on the verge of an 
emotional fall. 

Unbidden the memory of a cluster of crime scene photos on his coffee 
table sprang to mind. The bodies of children captured in horrific detail.
Had it been two months ago?

She licked her lips and forced a smile, a flippant air. "So it was
something I said. Then kiss me already and get to bed. Alone. You look
beat... and not only by me." She stood up and pressed her own ice pack to
his jaw. "Sorry about that. Really." She kissed him, allowing the kiss to
linger a bit, just touch on the sensual as she felt his hand caress her
breast before she drew back. "I'll be upstairs if you need any more
inspiration." She smiled coyly as she removed his hand.  She made as if to
leave then frowned.

There was something here... in the room. She moved back to his window
and tried to look outside. She could FEEL they were being watched. It was
dark out and the lights were on in here, she admonished herself as she
only saw her reflection against blackness. She tentatively lowered her
first shield, then a second, and was shocked to feel a moment of surprised
pleasure from outside herself then a moment of panic as she tried to grasp
at it. Then nothing. It was gone, and the sensation of being watched with
it.
 
"Now that was weird," she muttered to herself as she began to chew on
her bottom lip. 

Mulder looked up from the books. He had put his reading glasses on.
"What? Sorry, it's just this case..." He was sexy even in glasses, she
thought to herself then slapped down her hormones.
 
"I understand that. You often get bitchy when work is bothering you,
which is seven times out of ten." She smiled briefly, "This is just one of
your worst bouts. No... there was just something watching us."

He managed to stand from a cross legged position with amazing speed
as he pulled a small gun from an ankle holster. He moved to the window,
pulling her away and placing himself between her and the window as he
looked out. He was smart enough to turn off the desk lamp as he peered
outside. 

"I don't see anyone." He pulled the blinds closed and frowned at her.
 
"Neither did I. There was a presence in the room."

"A... presence? Cassy, are you telling me my apartment's haunted?" He
looked slightly amused as he reholstered the gun under his pant leg. 

"You are hopeless. No, not haunted, at least by anything more than the
ghosts of fishies past. There was someone here, in this room. I felt him.
I may not be a telepath, but something was making my skin crawl and it
left a residual emotional trace. It noticed that *I* noticed then bugged
out. I don't know what it was, I never felt anything like it before."

                              *

He opened his eyes and sat up in the driver's seat. He was still
parked in the same place. Things were certainly getting much more
interesting. 

That girl... lovely, beautiful thing with a spirit of fire. She was like him, 
she knew how to feel, how to take. He had never known there were any 
others. He was always the special one, the hunter. Always alone, above 
everyone - unique. He had a purpose.  

That girl... she was perfect. At long last there was someone he could share
with, someone else who could take the fear and pain and drink it in. She
was not as powerful, not as talented, but she had the spark. She too was a
gift, surely, another gift from the darkness. The Eve to his Adam.
With her he could create a new, a better, breed. The next step in the
evolutionary cycle. As far above man as man was above the animals.

If he was able to show her all that they were meant to be, to take her 
as his willing mate, it would further unbalance his adversary. This was
better than he ever dreamed. 

He smiled as he started the car and as he pulled out he decided that this
warranted moving early. Collect the next prize ahead of schedule so that
she could share this. He would share this gift with her so she could know
the power of it. Once she felt the power, the ecstasy, she would be his.
And through her he would topple his foe.

                              *

Claire smiled at her husband as he opened Kimberly's door.  The seven
year old looked like a perfect angel laying there. Her long golden hair
cascading around her pillow, her arm wrapped around Paddington Bear. She
was still sucking her thumb, though, and it leant even further innocence to
the scene. 

Don Jenkins smiled at his sleeping daughter and backed out of the
door, closing it behind him.

"Claire, would you mind if I woke her up early tomorrow? I want to
say goodbye before I head out for work."

"She'd be hurt if you didn't." Claire smiled and massaged Don's
shoulders. "She's very excited about her first solo plane ride, you know."
She pushed him as she massaged his stiff muscles, steering him to the
bedroom. "Relax, try to get some sleep, honey. I know you'll find this
person."

Don moved away from Claire and sat on the bed. "What if we don't?
Every body we find I keep thinking of Kimmy.  I don't know if I
can handle this much more. Yet, if I don't... who will?"

Clair sighed and sat on the edge of the bed next to her husband. "You
are good at what you do. But you have to do what you feel is best. You
know I'll support you whatever you choose. I can't help you make this
decision, Donnie."

                              *

It was really pathetically easy. Pick the lock and cross to
immediately punch in the number code to turn off the alarm before 
it engaged. The code was the child's birthdate. Too predicable. He 
might even have guessed it without mentally following the man, 
watching him punch it in.

Everyone was asleep.  Sometimes there were just no challenges
left in the world. He had really expected more from this family.

Chapter 4.
--------------

Cassandra tossed in her sleep. For once it was she who had the
nightmare, and she could not force herself to wakefulness.

::Can you see her, pretty lady?:: The voice slithered through her mind,
inescapable, forceful. Visions filled her. She was seeing through someone
elses' eyes. A darkened room. Outside light shining on a sleeping child. A
little girl hugging a teddy bear. ::So sweet, so sheltered. The sheltered
savor fear the most. The easiest to build on. What do you think she 
would do if when faced with a child-eating witch � la Hansel and Gretel 
or terrorized by a hockey-masked madman with a chainsaw, hmm? Come 
share this with me. See the beauty of it.::

She felt a frenzy of lust and need, sexual in nature. It filled her, leaving her 
longing for something...something part of her mind recognized and shrank 
from with dread.

The child opened her large blue eyes and her face froze in fear. She
opened her mouth to scream only to have a gloved hand encase the lower
half of her face. The fear washed over Cassy, through her. It filled her
and made her tremble. It was this, it was seduction and fulfillment in
one. She broke into a sweat, her stomach churning in rebellion. Cassy
shuddered from feeling it. ::Pull it in, this fear. Drink of it. Is it not 
wonderful?!::

Cassy wrenched herself awake with a force of will. Still grappling
with the vision she sat up in bed. A scream ripped through the apartment.

She was still shaking in terror when Tammy burst through the door to her 
bedroom, a baseball bat in one hand and Cassy's Derringer in the other. The 
sight of the small, slender girl with her short cap of mussed blond hair 
bursting in like Rambo snapped Cassy away from the last vestiges of the dream. 
 
"Dear God, Cassy, what's wrong?" Tammy managed to ask as soon as she'd
ascertained that there was no mad rapist or cat burglar in the apartment.

"I don't know... but I do know I have to wake up Mulder. Tammy... I
think there is another empath out there, with a gift that's twisted
somehow. Sick." Cassy managed to stop shivering in revulsion. "He's
hurting people."

Tammy put the bat down and set the gun on the lamp table before
sitting on the edge of the sofa bed. "Are you sure this isn't just some
bad dream? Some nightmare brought on by spending too much time with old
Moldy?"

Cassy shook her head. "I know dreams, Tam. I can control dreams, even
my own. No, this was from outside. It was real. I felt this presence
before. In Mulder's apartment, and I was wide awake. Tam, this guy just
took a kid. A little girl." Cassandra shoved her feet into her slippers
and didn't bother with her robe.

"Alright, I trust you. I'm coming with you." Tammy took up the bat
again but hid the gun in a kitchen drawer.

                              *

He hadn't been sleeping. He had the pattern now. He popped a few more
seeds in his mouth chewing them thoughtfully as he scribbled more notes.
Following the kidnappings at junctions of ley lines he was going to strike
in Annapolis or DC tomorrow night. Not much time. Mulder drank the last of
his cold coffee and started a list of streets that crossed the local ley
lines. 

The banging on his door brought Mulder's attention to the time. He
was tired, but too full of renewed energy and drive, not to mention
caffeine, to sleep. 

Checking through the peep hole first he saw Cassy's nervous face. 
 
"You know you are making a habit of  three am visits." He spoke through 
the door as he unlocked it and let her in. 

He was surprised to see Tammy right behind her, holding a Louisville
slugger in a two handed grip. He held up his hands. "I said I was sorry, I
was a real asshole. You don't have to kneecap me, Tammy, really."

"Shut up, Moldy. Cassy, talk to him. I have to use the bathroom." Tammy
pushed past Cassy and headed for the right door.

"Have I ever mentioned how much more appealing her little nickname
for me is when compared to Spooky?" He drawled, then sobered at the look
on Cassy's face. "What happened?"

Cassy went to the couch and sat down, relating to him her dream
vision, in as much detail as she could. "I'm not crazy, and I KNOW it
wasn't just a nightmare. It was real, Mulder, the same thing that was in
here before. He's an empath, maybe more. 

"I remembered you mentioned someone taking kids at ley lines. 
They aren't all smoke and mirrors, you know. I mean, I can sense things 
much more acutely at known junctions, and along the lines themselves 
my empathy is slightly improved as well. I think this is your guy." 

Cassy had regained her composure as she spoke. Now she was more 
angry than scared. "He may have known you were on this case, and tried to 
spy on you here, maybe see how close you were getting to him, and he 
sensed me. Another empath. He SPOKE to me, Mulder, in my head. He
was deliberately showing me how he took this little girl, he made me feel
her fear. He's... drinking it in somehow. It excites and arouses him. He
wanted me to feel the same way, I think."

Sometime as Cassy spoke Tammy had returned and perched in the chair
opposite her friend.
 
"He scares them to death," he murmured half to himself. "You are
describing a psychic vampire. There have been several suspected cases of
psychic vampirism throughout history. People who induce strong emotions in
others, seeming to gain in vitality as their victims become worn and
lethargic. Nothing has ever been proven before. If you are right... then
he's moved up the schedule. He shouldn't strike until tomorrow night. Why
change his pattern now?" Mulder pulled out two maps, one of DC and the
other of Annapolis. "Can you tell me where this happened?"
 
Cassy bit her lip. "No. Mulder, I am not Telepathic, I saw only what
he wanted me to see, felt what he directed to me. He's projective."
 
Mulder's phone ringing made all of them jump. He picked up. "Yah,
Mulder."

"It's Scully. Mulder, can you get out here? It's Jenkins. Kimberly is
missing. We think... Mulder, it might be our man." He could hear voices in
the background. Police, no doubt. Other agents,  too, as this was one of
their own. 

"I'm on it, Scully. I'm bringing someone along. Someone who might be
able to help." He didn't wait for her barrage of questions, he simply hung
up. "Cassy, hurry and get dressed. The daughter of the agent working with 
us on this case just was reported missing. I don't think it's coincidence."

Mulder rolled down his sleeves and shrugged on his shoulder holster
as Cassy ran into his bedroom to find the clothes she kept here for the
times she spent the night.  Mulder froze when he saw Tammy staring at him,
her dark eyes narrowed to slits as she sat on the chair, knees drawn up
before her, arms wrapped around her legs. She looked like a little sprite,
an illusion her pixi cut hair did nothing to dispel.

"If she's been dragged into this, Moldy, you better take care of her.
Or I'll do more than kneecap you, Buster." The look in her brown eyes was
dead serious. 

"Scouts honor." He held up three fingers then grabbed his jacket and
set about re-knotting his tie.
 
"Yah, like you were a Indian scout. Look, James Bond, she's one tough cookie,
but she isn't bullet proof. If this sicko really managed to touch her
dreams... he could be after her."

Mulder nodded at Tammy. "I am very well aware of that, Tink. I'll
protect her with my life. But this guy spoke to her for a reason. I don't
really think she'd be any safer here. At least with me she'll have Scully
and myself watching out for her. Now cheer up and think happy thoughts."
 
Mulder inwardly winced at his own words. Intellectually he knew he
was right. Not only could she be protected but she just might be able to
help them find Kimberly Jenkins before it was too late. But if Cassy HAD
been targeted by the kidnapper, it was because of her association with
him.

Why was it that everyone he got close to ended up in danger, or
worse? Maybe it was time. Time to back away from Cassy before she really
got hurt. If they managed to catch this guy, it was something he would
have to think about. Damnit, it was stupid and selfish but he didn't want
to shove her out of his life. 

He cared about her, a lot. He wanted to care more than that. But something 
held him back. Perhaps it was this. The fear of putting her in danger. 
The fear of loss. She could be used against him. 

"Do you think Cassy should bring her gun?" Tammy's voice broke his
downward spiraling thoughts. "I could go get it, and all the paperwork
that goes with it. It might help, if you've managed to teach her to shoot
straight." Tammy nibbled on a thumbnail.

"It should never come down to her needing it. And she's only licenced
to carry concealed in Virginia. But if worse comes to worse I'll make sure
she is armed." Mulder pulled on his trench coat.

Cassandra came out of the bedroom in a pair of faded jeans and deck
shoes, but she was wearing a brown sweater that was three sizes too big
with the arms pushed back to her elbows. Standing there, wearing his
sweater she looked much smaller than she was, more vulnerable.  Cassy
sniffed at the sweater's neck. "At least it's clean, and it doesn't smell
like Polo." She smiled slightly. "Sorry, all mine are in the hamper and I
never brought down a new one. I promise to wash it if I get it dirty."

"We have to go." He handed her his own leather coat to save the time
of her fetching her own from upstairs.

"Wait!" Tammy pressed the baseball bat into Cassy's hand. "I think
you'd be more dangerous with this than with a gun anyway. And..." Tammy
made a face at Mulder, "you don't need a licence to carry it."

"Thanks, Tam. Go home, try to get back to sleep." Cassy hugged the
smaller woman as they all left the apartment.

"Yah, right." Tammy huffed, watching them leave she wrapped her arms
around herself. "Like THAT's gonna happen."

Chapter 5.
-----------------

The house was full of people, uniformed and plain clothes cops,
federal agents and forensics. Mulder blinked as he led Cassy through the
press of people. Why was he not surprised that Skinner was here? Jenkins
reported to Skinner, too.

Claire Jenkins was sitting on the couch next to Scully. She stared intently at 
the glass of water she held, as though it might reveal some secret.  Her glazed, 
vapid eyes were an unmistakable manifestation of the sedative which coursed 
though her veins.

Don Jenkins looked at his wife with tired, concerned eyes. He was barely 
holding on to his sanity as he sat in an easy chair clenching and unclenching 
his fists.

Skinner was speaking with a plain clothes cop.  He shot Mulder a
questioning look as he nodded to him in acknowledgment. How WAS he going
to explain Cassy's presence? At least she had left the bat in the car.

Scully looked surprised to see Cassandra as well. She frowned a
little but nodded politely. 

"What happened?" Mulder stood next to Don.

"I should have sent her away sooner. Was it my gut telling me she'd
be next, Mulder? Some premonition of this?" Jenkins was close to losing
it. 
 
"Don, tell me what happened?" Mulder squatted next to the chair. Next 
to him a recorder and tracer was being hooked to the phone, stupid and 
useless. This guy never contacts the families.

Don worked his thick, blunt fingers into the arms of his chair, flexing 
and gripping, wishing for a throat to wrap around. "I came home and 
checked on her... she was fine. Sound asleep. About forty minutes ago 
I awoke from a restless sleep. I had to go, ya know. On the way back 
I looked in again, I had this need to reassure myself. She... she was gone. 
The front door was wide open. He knew how to get by the alarm system."

"She had a Paddington Bear, didn't she?" Cassandra asked softly, but
everyone's attention was suddenly riveted on her... including Skinner's.
He had just moved close enough to hear.

Claire made a mewling noise as she gripped her water glass tightly
and Don paled. "Who are you? How did you know that?"

Mulder put a hand on Don's shoulder. "Easy, Don. This is Cassandra
Troy. Cassy, this is Agent Donald Jenkins and Claire Jenkins, you've met
Scully."  Mulder looked up to meet Skinner's eyes challengingly. "Don,
Cassy had a dream tonight. She saw this happen."

Cassy spoke up quickly. "The kidnapper wanted me to see it. Mulder
thinks I might be able to help you find him. Mr. Jenkins... when he took
her, she wasn't hurt." 

"And how are we to know you are not in league with the kidnapper, Ms.
Troy?" It was, of course, Skinner who challenged her. 

Assistant Director Skinner's glare and wrath had made trained field
agents cower and cringe before. But Cassy walked right up to him and
answered his glare with one of her own. She had to look slightly up to
him, but she did not appear intimidated.

She wasn't. She knew the man before her was anxious, worried
and a little suspicious. Anger flickered beneath the surface, but not 
really directed at her. She was just a momentary convenient outlet 
for his frustrations. She almost smiled. He was handsome, grim, dark. 
Yet, there was a quiet strength here. He was someone to be relied upon.

"This sicko was in my head. It was vile. He dragged me into this
because we have something in common. I want to help save that little girl.
But if you'd rather slap me and cuffs and haul me away, FINE. Just know I
won't do you any good in a jail cell." 

"And why should we believe you? What do you have in common with this
man? Do you have any idea how insane you sound?" Skinner's tone did not
change, but that little vein in his head was throbbing.
 
Cassandra put on a smug look and reached out to touch Skinner's
temple.  She ignored the electric charge at the contact and pushed her 
emotions at him. 

Walter Skinner was suddenly flooded with a deep, personal fear topped with 
a fierce determination. He felt anger and annoyance mixed with exasperation. 
Yet, he KNEW none of these emotions were his own. 

He fell back a step, a look of shock on his face.

Cassy let her hand drop and smiled. "Was it good for you, too?"
 
Skinner regained his composure quickly. "What the hell was that?"

"That was me. It's how I knew about the kidnapper. Let's just say I got into 
his head, and he got into mine. I *saw* what happened here tonight. If he 
tried to pull that again, I may be able to pinpoint him," Cassandra closed 
her eyes and sighed. "or at least describe what I see."

Skinner took in the woman before him. Lovely, average height, olive skin, jet
black hair in a braid to the small of her back, and emerald eyes. The kind of
woman who managed to take men's breath away without even realizing it. The 
fact that she was wearing Agent Mulder's jacket was not lost on him. 

"Sir," Mulder drew Skinner's attention now. "I think this man was
watching us, all of us working on his case. He's trying to eliminate each
of us in different ways. I do not believe Agent Furguson's death was
natural."

"I think the kidnapper killed him the same way he killed all the
kids. I would stake my badge that a chemical analysis of Furguson's body
would show massive traces of adrenaline and epinephrine in his system. He
traced Don here and saw he had a daughter. That Don lived so close to a
specific target area made it a perfect way to remove Agent Jenkins from
the equation." 

Mulder held out the file he had brought, including the map
with the tracing paper pattern of ley lines in yellow hi-lighter. 

"What is this?" Skinner frowned at the map. 

"It's a map of the ley lines in the United States. Parapsychologists
believe that ley lines are a webwork of electromagnetic streams that
heighten psychic abilities and enhance paranormal phenomenon. Several
ancient stone monuments were found to be at the junctions or on the paths
of these ley lines. Stonehenge and the great pyramids being the most
famous cases." Mulder pointed to the file in Skinner's hands. "The
kidnaping sights couldn't possibly follow that pattern by accident."

Skinner took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why
is it I develop these headaches only when you're around, Agent Mulder?" He
sighed. 

"Sir, I would like Miss Troy on this case." Don Jenkins had risen from
his seat. "Please sir. If not officially... I'll hire her services. I know
families of kidnap victims sometime employ psychics in the hope of getting
any leads at all."

"I'm not that kind of psychic, Mr. Jenkins. If I could find your
daughter I would. I don't want you to have false hope, but I think I can
help if the kidnapper contacts me again." She hoped they could find the
little girl in time so she could try to undo whatever damage the man
caused.

"If Agent Mulder is willing to officially recommend you I'll agree to you 
joining this investigation as a civilian consultant. Would you agree to this?" 
Skinner closed the file and handed it back to Mulder. The fact that Miss 
Troy wanted her own limitations clear had impressed him. Hell, that two 
second emotional jolt IMPRESSED him..

Cassy's "Yes" was simultaneous with Mulder's "Yes sir."

"Since we are actually going to treat this seriously, Miss Troy, if you
would be so kind as to give a statement about your... dream." Skinner
guided her away from the others and to the kitchen table where she sat
with a very skeptical federal agent.

When they were out of ear shot Scully grabbed Mulder's arm. "Mulder,
do you really think Cassandra is going to be able to help?"

"Yes, I do. But more I want to keep her by us at all times. If this
person is sending dreams to her specifically she could be the next
target." 

Scully nodded with understanding in her eyes. She was uncomfortable
with Cassandra Troy. Genuine psychic abilities were still hard to accept,
but her personal demonstration was enough to soften her usual skepticism.
There was still that chance that her own mind just THOUGHT it felt what it
was expected to feel. Mental trickery on par with hypnosis.

Scully couldn't help but feel awkward around Ms. Troy. Cassy was sleeping 
with her partner and she was decidedly uncomfortable with her own reaction 
to that fact.. Anger, bitterness, not jealousy. That would be foolish. But 
Cassandra's presence was an irritant in a way Scully couldn't quite put her 
finger on. It was made worse by the fact that  under different  circumstances 
she was pretty sure she and Cassy could  have been friends.  The woman was 
disgustingly likeable.

"Jenkins is off the case, but you knew that. I promised to keep him
updated, though." Her abrupt change of subject did not go unnoticed. His
eyes thanked her silently.

"That would be best. You can't pussy-foot around him when it comes to
this guy. He also knows the time limit on us. Two weeks, Scully."

"Two weeks, but he has to stay along these ley line things, right? It
will narrow the field quite a bit." 

Chapter 6.
--------------

"There, there. We're all nice and cozy now." He stroked the pale hair
of the child lying unconscious in the back seat. "Honey, we're home. At
least for now." He lifted her out of the car and carried her into the
boarded-up shop. 

It had once been a deli. Up until three years ago it had done
moderate business. Now it was empty of everything but the meat case,
refrigerator and a broken table. Dust covered the floor and all visible
surfaces, and the lingering odor of garlic had not completely dissipated
over the years.

He placed her on the floor in the back store room and moved back
through the building to re-lock the door. He had made an impression of the
key after filching it from the real estate agent who showed him the
building a month before. By dropping the original key onto the floor of
the real estate man's car after the copy had been made there was no
suspicion.

The child in back stirred and he hurried to be with her. He wanted to
be the first thing she saw when she opened her lovely eyes. He opened
himself up to her, every nerve tuned to her very presence. 

She opened her eyes, saw him, and began to cry. 

"Where am I? What do you want?"

He smiled. "I want what only you can give me." There was no pity in
his black, dark eyes... only contempt and... hunger.

He opened his will, locking minds with her and he began to weave the
first nightmare. :: What do you fear most Kimberly? What do you fear
most?:: 

She'd seen a movie once. She'd snuck downstairs to watch it after her
parents went to bed. They said she couldn't see it. It had frightened her,
and she wasn't able to sleep well for a week. 

Kimberly whimpered as the poorly lit surroundings changed, she stood
in a long hallway with silver piping along the ceiling. There was black
grating under her feet. The man wasn't there anymore. She was alone.
Intermittent red lights flashed along the hall. She recognized this place
and trembled. 

"Who are you? How are you doing this to me?" She cried into the
hallway.

::I'm the Boogie Man, little girl. And I need your fear.::

She heard a slithering, clicking sound behind her, and a looming
shadow just around the corner. A hissing sound. No, it wasn't real... it
couldn't be real. It was just a movie. A silly movie. 

It moved and she saw the graceful black curve of its head as claw
like arms reached out for her. She screamed, and she began to run.
     
Chapter 7.
------------
     
Cassy gave her statement in a clear and calm manner. The man writing
it all down and operating his little tape recorder was giving her 'the
look'. 'The look' said, where do they find these wakos and why do they
send them to me. Both Cassy and the man with the recorder were relieved
when the interview was over.

She looked into the living room and saw Mulder speaking with his
partner. The Jenkins were in bad shape, and even shielded, their fear,
misery and anger pressed in on her. Unshielded, they would have had her
tearing her hair out by now. 

She shook her head sadly and started across the room. Out of nowhere
reality disappeared. She was in a dimly lit hall, piping running along the
ceiling and floors gave her an industrial feel, murky red lights
flickered. Dark metal grating was underfoot. Oddly out of place was the
smell, a musty odor mingling with garlic. 

She felt the fear. It was as if all her carefully wrought shields were as 
insubstantial as smoke, the emotion flowed over her. Worse than the 
fear, infinitely worse... it... felt... wonderful. 

It swept over her as a cleansing tide, revitalizing, energizing. The 
scintillating beauty of that terror crackled along her neural pathways, 
making her shake with the unadulterated pleasure of it. It aroused 
each particle of her consciousness with voluptuous sensation.
 
She saw the child, still wearing a powder blue nightgown. The little
girl was running and SOMETHING was chasing her.

::Magnificent isn't it? To feel this, to feel this is everything.
Accept this gift. The purity of a child's fear has no equal.::

Cassandra bit her lip against the exquisite agony of it, tasted her
own blood. Concentrated on the pain, the coppery, salty taste. That was
real, the rest... the rest was illusion. 
 
"Kimberly, it isn't real! Fight it!" Cassandra called even as the
child and the matinee horror came towards her. But the little girl gave no
indication of hearing her at all. 

::No! You are fighting it. Why fight it. Has anything in your life
felt this good? This complete?::

Cassandra sobbed and bit her tongue hard, tasting fresh blood. Think
of the pain, she told herself, only the pain, not the pleasure. He's wrong... 
there had to be something that felt as good... had to be.... seek it, feel that 
memory.

Then she was there, and she was fighting for her breath. There were
arms around her and voices shouting. She ignored the voices, focusing on
the feel of the strong, familiar arms wrapped around her, one voice
repeating her name in her ear. The emotions around her battering her
overwrought mind. Fear, anxiousness, worry, confusion, and there... she
clung to the warmth of what touched her as she fought to re-establish her
shields, snap them in place. Then the darkness consumed her.

----------------

Scully saw Cassandra crossing the room to them and noticed her go
pale. With no more warning the woman's knees buckled and she collapsed. 
Skinner, who was standing next to her, caught her before she hit the floor. 
His face held surprise and concern. 

"Medic!" He called out even as he lowered her limp form to the ground.

Mulder moved faster than she did, and he knelt on the floor, taking her 
shoulders from Skinner's grasp, holding her. Cassandra as she began to shake. 

Scully checked her eyes, they were rolled back into her head. 
 
"Mulder let her go, she's having an epileptic seizure. It has to be
allowed to run it's course." In full doctor mode now, Scully noted the time
on her watch.

Even as he was about to obey, her trembling ceased and she went limp.

"She's bleeding." He held her closer now that the shaking had
stopped. "Cassy, Cassy can you hear me?" He rocked her gently as he half
whispered into her ear.

Scully checked her watch. "Three minutes. Has she had these episodes
before?" She moved to check Cassandra's pulse.

Mulder shook his head. "No. She never mentioned anything like this."

Cassy moaned softly and stirred.

"She's coming around." No sooner had the words left Scully's mouth
then Cassandra's thick lashes lifted, and her eyes focused. "Feeling
better?" Scully smiled reassuringly at her.

"I bit my tongue." Cassy touched her mouth. It looked like she'd
gotten her lip as well. "That was... I don't ever want to go through that
again."

"What happened?" Mulder helped her up and guided her to the sink
where she spat blood from her mouth.

Skinner handed her a glass of water. She gave him a weak smile of thanks 
then worked on getting  the last of the taste clear. Her lip and tongue were 
still a bit sore. She sat down in a kitchen chair someone had been thoughtful 
enough to shove in their direction. 

"He was at it again. He's not physically harming her." Cassy saw Don
Jenkins among those gathered round her. "He's creating illusions.
Projective telepathy. He's making her afraid, and... he's feeding off the
fear." Cassy couldn't meet agent Jenkins' eyes. 

"And he got into your head." Mulder stated simply. It wasn't a
question.

"Do you have a history of epilepsy in your family Ms. Troy?" Scully
asked with a frown.

"No epilepsy. But yes, he was in my head. He's strong... frighteningly so. 
He managed to knock down all my shields. He... he wants me to be like 
him." She shivered again for a moment. "He forced me to feel what he felt."

"Alright! Everybody back to work. We have a child to find. MOVE IT!"
Skinner's tone sent people scrambling, and cleared the area around Cassy
so that only Mulder, Scully, Jenkins and himself were left.

"Miss Troy, what exactly did you see?" Skinner crouched before her, his
dark eyes locking with hers.

Cassy looked briefly at Jenkins. He had a right to know... but it
would hurt so much. Would it hurt less to be left to wonder? She felt
Mulder's hand on her shoulder, reassuring. She took a deep breath and
tried to ignore the pain in her mouth. 

"A scene from 'Aliens' I think. He was using a movie monster to feed
her fear." Cassy frowned slightly and replayed the whole horrible scene in
her mind. "Garlic." She said to herself.

"What?" That came from all four people around her at once.

"It was out of place. A movie nightmare, but the smell of garlic,
faint, but unmistakable." Cassy's eyes lit up as she looked up at Mulder.
"The olfactory sense is one of the most basic and instinctive we possess.
It links to our minds in the most amazing ways. I mean how many times have
you smelled something and it instantly brought to mind something else, or
a memory? I think that smell was not an intentional part of the illusion.
I think he simply couldn't block it out, or didn't think to."

Mulder's eyes darkened. "We need a city map. He's had..." he checked
his watch, "one hour and seventeen minutes since Don discovered Kimberly
missing. He's probably still along a ley line." 

A map was passed to him and he spread it out over the kitchen table. 
Scully brought over the case file with the tracing paper overlay. Mulder 
ran a finger in a straight line along the map, where the line would flow 
through the city. 

"He wouldn't speed, it would risk calling attention to himself. That will give
us about fifty miles in either direction. I need a list of all buildings
along this area from here to here that either are now or used to be
restaurants, take out pizza shops, delis, spice shops, anything that would
have garlic associated with it."

Chapter 8.
------------

Even as Mulder spoke action was taken. Opinion at the Bureau may be
that Mulder was a few bricks short of a load, but nine out of ten people
also knew he was one of the best. None of which mattered to Mulder
at the moment, only that calls were being made, and information gathered.

Cassy sat back and watched the well-oiled machine flurry around her. 
The chaos moved frantically but efficiently to her ceaseless amazement. 
She felt like a fifth wheel.

"Copy this list.  I want two teams working from here out, one taking
the southwest route, one taking the northeast. Look into every one of these
addresses."

Her full attention snapped back as Mulder was handed a paper.
Mulder's boss looked at it beside him. Cassandra couldn't help but
admire A.D. Skinner's air of calm command. If only because she 
had felt the chaotic tumult of emotions he now held hidden.

"Sir, we'd like to take the northeast." It was Scully who spoke, and
Cassy felt a tinge of jealousy for the wordless communication that passed
between this woman and Mulder. It was not telepathic, it was familiarity. 

Skinner knew what they were up to. It was the most likely direction
he would have taken. "Agreed." 

"Mr. Skinner if I go with them maybe the closer we get the more he'll
try to contact me. I don't look forward to it... but now that I know he
can get in my head while I'm awake I won't be as shocked, and I might be
able to trace him."

"Could further contact be a health risk?" Skinner's eyes bore into her
across the table. "Another seizure..."

"Can't be avoided if he really wants to get in. I'm pretty sure I
can't stop him if he is determined. I promise I'll go to the hospital once
you people get this guy, and I'll submit to every EEG and Cat scan you
want me to have."

His eyes bore into hers. She felt herself shiver. "This one is important to me, 
Miss  Troy."

She nodded, solemnly. "I know." 

"Alright, but if they find anything you stay in the car." His face was hard,
uncompromising. "I will not risk a civilian. The first sign of trouble you stay
down and out of sight."

She shook herself, then, and smiled giving him a small salute. "Aye, aye sir. 
But sir... can you make Mulder buy me a popsicle? My tongue still hurts." 

Cassy heard Scully laugh softly behind her.

Good. Jokes were good. They would keep Cassy from thinking about how
she saw the helpless Kimberly, relished the tasted fear and felt it
quicken her blood. But, oh, she wanted to feel that exquisite pleasure/pain
again. 

She resisted the urge to open herself and drink in the fear and anguish 
of everyone in the room. Cassy knew that was the entrance into the abyss.

                              *

The child had passed out. Stupid, useless when they were unconscious.
It was not going as well as he had hoped. 

Oh her fear was wonderful, delicious. The woman... her name rang in
his head, he'd gleaned it from her mind as she fought against him.
Cassandra. Lovely name. Sensuous, so like her. Yet she did fight him. She
did not accept his gift. He knew she felt it, he knew she was as
intoxicated with the fear as he was. Yet she had tried to STOP him. 

It was the man. A normal, untalented, ordinary human. She had tried
to focus on him as the pleasure of the girl's fear surrounded her. He was
holding her back, keeping her from her destiny. Like a submissive fool she
allowed him to restrain her. 

He looked at the pictures he had taken at the dumpster. One had been
gone over with red marker. An X over the blond man's face. 
 
A shaking hand lifted the second picture. This face was studiously
devoid of emotion except for the eyes. The eyes were haunted. What pain
lay there? The Boogie Man would find out. He didn't simply want this one
off the case. He would no longer be satisfied to elude this hunter. No. He
wanted to destroy him. Shred his mind, wring every drop of fear and pain
from his soul before the kill. And she would watch. She would taste the fear 
and understand where her destiny lay. Once tasted the addiction was such that
Heroine seemed harmless. It was only a matter of time.

He used a thumbtack to pin the picture to the wall. His research gave
him a name. Fox Mulder. A stupid name for a foolish hindrance. 

He picked up the last picture. The small red haired woman. Here was
where the pain could start. She was Mulder's assigned partner. He had
experience with law enforcement. Partners, at least long standing ones,
had special bonds. Bonds that could become their weakness. This will 
be interesting.

                              *

Cassy sat in the back seat, the dawn was approaching. She was
exhausted. An hour's worth of sleep isn't all it used to be.

She peered through the huge glass windows of the 24 hour quickmart to
see Mulder at the counter already.

She heard a chuckle from the front seat. Dana Scully was examining
the map and list of addresses in her lap, but she was shaking her head.

"Wanna let me in on it?" Cassy leaned forward a bit. 

"I just had a picture of you sending him out for scented feminine
hygiene products." 

Both women were laughing when Mulder got back into the car.

"What?" He held out three fudgecicles.

"Nothing." Cassy took the offered stick and peeled off the wrapper.
The cold felt wonderful against her still burning tongue.

"Nothing like a nice healthy breakfast." Scully looked askance at the
popsicle in her hand before giving up and eating it. "The first address is
six blocks from here on Calvert Street. It used to be a pizza shop,
deliveries only." 

Cassy pulled out her baseball bat and cradled it across her lap.
Scully gave her an odd look.

"I know." Cassy managed around her fudgecicle before removing it's
soothing coldness to speak more clearly., "I don't plan on getting out of
the car. But I feel better with it. I'm good at bashing people with
sticks. Ask Mulder."

Scully leaned over to peer at Mulder's faintly bruised jaw with a
raised eyebrow. "I was going to ask about that..."

Cassy blushed in the back seat and Mulder gave Scully his whipped
puppy look. "She beats on me, Mom."

"That was my fist, not a stick. I have yet to whack you with a
stick." Cassy defended.

"You HIT him?" Cassy found herself pinned by an angry glare. It
looked like Mulder wasn't the only protective one around here.

"She just couldn't control herself in the throws of passion. Come on
Scully, you never hit your chin in the headboard during sex?" He quirked 
an eyebrow at her.

Scully flushed and looked away. She looked VERY uncomfortable all
of a sudden.

Cassy flashed Mulder a glare but kept her mouth shut by sticking the
fudgcicle back in it. If he didn't want Scully to know what really happened
that was his business. She didn't have to like it though.

They pulled up to the closed shack that had been their destination.
Cassy braced herself and dropped her outer shields, feeling the emotions
of the people in the city around them pressing in. She tried to focus on
the building in front of them, but was unable to get anything at all. That
could just mean he was better at hiding than she was however.

"Be careful ok? I don't feel anything out of the ordinary, but that
will not make me feel better if either one of you get shot." Cassy settled
into the back seat as the two got out to check the building.

Chapter 9.
--------------

They were gone for ten minutes. It seemed longer because Cassy's hands
sweated against the bat she held in a death grip. But all her anxiety was
wasted. They both were shaking their heads as they returned to the
car.

"Nothing. No one's been in there for months, unless you count the
rats." Scully offered as Mulder started the car.

The second place on their list was a specialty spice store, still in
operation. It had vacant apartments above it.

Again Cassy stayed in the car. The town was waking up, and she
watched many different people heading to jobs, school, ordinary lives. It
suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't called in to work, and she hoped
Tammy would remember that little detail. 

They were gone for longer this time. They had to contact the 
building manager and get permission to search the empty rooms, 
and she gathered when fifteen minutes passed that they either got 
permission or were phoning for a warrant. 

She was feeling useless again. Sitting in a car, doing nothing was
not helping anyone. But how could she help? The town and surrounding
communities created enough emotional 'noise' she'd never be able to use
her gift to track them, unless HE decided to go after her again. 

Cassy shuddered. What he was doing was inhuman, vile, and incredibly 
seductive. What kind of person was she to feel such raw pleasure as the force fed
fear flowed through her? She pressed her forehead against the cool glass
of the car window. 

She was a good person. She silently echoed the words of
her counselor Dr. Verber. It's our actions and ability to tell right from
wrong that make us moral. What this man was doing was WRONG,
no matter how good it felt. He was no different than a drug addict. That
he was forcing some of his high on her didn't make her bad either. She
knew it was wrong and wanted no part of it. Didn't she?

Her head was hurting again when Mulder and Scully returned to the car
once again.

"No luck." She sighed and looked over Scully's shoulder at the map
and list. "Now where?"

"Pitt Street. An Italian restaurant up until a month ago. It's been
purchased by a new owner but no reopened yet." Scully folded the map and
Mulder pulled out. 

"Are you alright back there?" Mulder asked over his shoulder.

"Tossed between a nervous breakdown and terminal boredom but doing
fine." Cassy swung her legs up so she sat across the whole back seat.
"I've got an idea. You said this guy was a psychic vampire right? I mean
it fits with what I've felt. I might not be able to drown out an ocean of
emotion around me... but I should be able to notice a whirlpool."

Mulder frowned, "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, he drains emotions. It's what he's good at. He's lazy about
it though. Look at him, he takes kids mostly because he won't have to work
very hard to make them afraid. He works along ley lines and junctions so
they will augment his powers and so he won't have to push himself. He's
lazy.

" We're currently following the line he's most likely on. Meaning
*I'M* more sensitive too. If I don't focus on any particular set of
emotions I just might be able to 'feel' the 'tides'. All this background
noise is very much like being in a river or ocean. A person who sucks up
emotion should make a difference in the currents... shouldn't they?"

"Don't you risk getting his attention going out looking for him like
that?" Mulder's concern was valid. She had to nod admission.
 
"Yes. But if he gets into my head again I'll be ready and I'd STILL
be better able to pinpoint him. Look at this rate, he could leave town.
He has to know we're looking for him. He may start acting against his
established patterns, like he did with the kidnaping itself, just to
throw you off."
 
"She has a point Mulder. He may even kill Kimberly at any time and go
after other game." Scully turned in her seat. "Can you do that while we
move?"

"Hey! She isn't doing anything. I don't think it's worth the risks..."

Cassandra smiled slightly as she closed her eyes and lost the rest of
Mulder's tirade. She was feeling all the emotion around her, dulling it to
a white noise roar. It took a lot of concentration to NOT focus on what
was around her, especially with Mulder's agitation and anger so close.
Felt like he realized she wasn't listening. Oh well...

The tides did flow around her, ebbing and flowing. Serene and
peaceful, so easy to loose herself in and never return. No! Focus. She
felt an odd current. Faint, moving against the rest of the currents. 
 
Vocalize it. Force the mouth to form the words as the mind was
elsewhere. 

"East. A current is wrong, running east." 
 
She didn't hear or feel response as she flowed with the current. Out 
of nowhere vicious claws grasped her, cruelly. 

                              *
Mulder kept checking the rear view mirror. Cassy appeared relaxed,
her eyes closed and her breathing regular. Damn her. She was putting
herself at unnecessary risk. 

Scully was turned in her seat watching Cassy more closely. Mulder had
to try to divide his attention between the road and the mirror, and the
sound of a blaring horn outside made him realize it just wasn't going to
work and he had to watch the road.

He pulled completely over when he heard Cassy gasp.

He brought the car to a stop and unbuckled as he swung around to look
into the back seat. She was shaking again.

"Damn! Cassy!" He reached for her only to have Scully stop him. 

"No Mulder, any restraint and you'll risk hurting her. You have to
allow the seizure to run it's course."

"This isn't a seizure Scully, he has her, and you know it."

                              *

The child had just come around when he started to play a new version
of the game. He started with Hansel and Gretel, just as he'd mentioned to
Cassandra. Kimberly came fully awake locked in a cage. Outside the cage a
cackling crone opened an oven and used a wooden board to pull out a lump
of something. The blackened corpse of a child popped and sizzled on the
end of the paddle. Kimberly whimpered, her eyes wide as she peed herself.

He was about to move up the illusion when he felt a tug. Faint, but
moving closer. He mentally reached out and grasped Cassandra.

::I knew you'd come to me. You cannot resist what I can offer you.::

Cassandra struggled in his mental grasp. She then did something
totally unexpected. She let loose a wave of love and comfort, acceptance
and hope. 

It washed over him in a blinding light. Making him shrink in on
himself for a moment. The emotions were pure, almost as wonderful as a
child's fear. 

But while he drank them in... they were not aimed at him. They were 
aimed at the child who had ceased her whimpering. Her fear did
not go away, but instead lightened, a glimmer of hope came to her heart.

Chapter 10.
-------------

It took him nearly a full minute to realize Cassandra was using HIM.
She could not project her emotions without physical contact. She was using
the fact that he was 'feeding' from both her and the child, making him a
conduit to give the girl hope. With a mental slam he ceased his contact
with the child and reached into Cassandra's mind. He felt her rising panic
as he touched her thoughts. Grabbing what he needed he released her.

He leaned against the wall and looked at the huddled form of Kimberly
Jenkins as she lay in a fetal position clutching at her head.

"Don't feel false hope Kimmy. It was no angel, and I can hurt her
too." 

He felt her begin to dispair again and smiled to himself. Cassandra
had tried to oppose him, but in doing so she gave him all he needed. 

He reached out and grabbed Kimberly's small wrists in one hand. He
produced a roll of duct tape from a pocket and began taping her wrists
together, careful not to cut off circulation, yet keep the binding tight
enough to prevent escape. No, to hurt her body too much would allow her a
way to escape his illusions. He'd learned that the first time. 

She whimpered as he stuffed a rag into her mouth and taped over it
before shoving her small form into a cupboard door. She'd be able to
breathe in there. He braced the door closed with a chair under the knob. 

His captive secured, he left the building, carefully locking it
behind him. He had plans. Glorious plans. And Cassandra Troy had given him
the means to complete them.

                              *

Cassy came around with a gasp, her body drawing her into an upright
position. Her eyes focused on the frightened and concerned faces before
her. Her shields were down again, and she felt another bruising assault
first from the world at large but more keenly from the the two in the front 
seat. Fear for her safety, relief at her return to the here and now, anger at 
her carelessness, concern for her health were a jumble directed at her from 
BOTH agents

She closed her eyes and drew her shields up again. The onion layers
separating herself from all around her, allowing her to feel for herself.
The last layer up she again opened her eyes. Her headache had erupted into
real pain now, she hadn't suffered a migraine like this in a long time.
 
"Just what the Hell did you think you were doing?" She should have
expected the angry words. She had to force herself to remember that he was
angry because he cared. Otherwise she'd have bitten his head off in
return.

"He's to the east a bit, further north, none of the addresses along
the western edge of the line are viable." Cassy offered as an answer as
she clutched her head in shaking hands.

"Cassy what happened?" Mulder's voice was softer now. He had noticed
the tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I tracked him part way. I was doing the right thing. But he must
have sensed me somehow. He grabbed me. But he was still connected to
Kimberly when he did. I thought fast and used him as a link to Kimberly,
sending her some affection and care, trying to give her hope. He caught on
to what I was doing and cut us both off. It hurt."

"Scully how far is Mercy? Cassy, we're getting you to a hospital right now."
 
"Screw you, Mulder. He knows what I was doing. I have a migraine, but
nothing I haven't had before. AFTER you get this guy I get myself checked
out. THAT was the deal." 

Scully shook her head with a small smile. "I have no more worries
Mulder. She's perfect for you." 
 
Mulder was scowling. 

"Look, other than put her on medication nothing can be done for the
seizure aspect of these attacks. I'm not even sure that would work
considering the cause of these episodes. The best way to stop these
attacks and minimize the health risk to Cassy would be to stop this man."
Scully reasoned calmly.

Cassandra almost cheered despite her headache. Almost. When this was
over she was going to have to see about being a bit more friendly to
Mulder's partner. She had to admit she had been less than
friendly to Dana Scully. She was jealous..

Cassy knew no matter what happened between herself and Mulder, 
Dana Scully would always be closer to Fox. She would always be his 
best friend, the one he'd turn to first. And that hurt. But it couldn't 
be helped... indeed, it was even understandable. 

So Cassy shoved her pettiness away and accepted the olive branch she
sensed Dana Scully extended.

Knowing he had been outvoted by two very stubborn women, Mulder was
silent as he drove to the next place on their list. Cassandra HAD
eliminated ten places with her little stunt. This might give them the couple 
hours they needed to save that little girl.

"Ok the next address to the east of this line is?" Cassy offered.

"A failed Subway. Let's go Mulder."

                              *

The building was in a shopping plaza that only managed to keep half
its shops open. The rest of the glass fronted establishments had windows
either been soaped over or covered with cardboard from the inside, shielding
them from prying public eyes.

They had called ahead ten minutes ago. The realtor handling the sale
of the shops had agreed to meet them there and have the places open. He
was waiting in the parking lot.

"You those FBI folks?" He asked shakily. His eyes darting to the
empty storefronts nervously. He was obviously uncomfortable with the
thought that one of them might hide a kidnapper and his victim.

Scully and Mulder showed their badges and the fortyish man in the
gold jacket looked at them carefully, matching faces to the pictures.

"I didn't open 'em yet. I figured if he's here... maybe someone with
a gun better be close by." He shrugged a bit.

Mulder managed a tight smile. "Good idea Mr. Niles."

He jingled the ring of keys. "I'll go in with you though, and make
sure things are locked up behind you. I can't imagine anyone using any of
these stores to hide a kidnaped kid."
 
Mulder sighed. "Open the doors and stay outside. I'd rather you
stayed out of the way if there is any reason for things to get dicey."

"Whatever you say sir." Mr. Niles led them to the first door. 

Chapter 11.
---------------

Cassandra watched from the car as Mr. Niles opened the door and
Mulder and Scully entered with their guns drawn. They came out in five
minutes and moved to the shop next door to the defunct Subway.

Something was nagging at Cassy, but with her raging headache she just
shoved whatever it was aside. She lay down in the back seat, closing her
eyes to seek some relief from the pain.

                              *

Mulder cursed softly when he saw that this store had once been a
pharmacy. It was filled with empty shelving, but still had numerous
hiding places.

The only light was the pale, thin illumination from the soaped over front 
windows. The only sounds their combined breathing and the whisper of 
fabric as they moved, it sound of their own footfalls as the walked as silently 
as they could.

Out on nowhere a heavy hand fell on Mulder's shoulder. He managed not to
jump as Mr. Niles voice fell near his ear. "There is a lock on the door to the 
back storeroom." 

Mulder nodded to him. "Scully, go with him and check it out." He eyed
the pharmacist's area in back. Another good hiding place.

Scully moved along the side wall, Mr. Niles following nervously
behind. He saw the real estate man fumble with the lock and finally open
the back storeroom before following Scully inside. 

Mulder moved across the isles, making sure it was all clear before
proceeding to the pharmacist's counter
.
                                   *

Scully felt Mr. Niles behind her as she swung, Sig ready, around the
first storage shelf. Nothing. She began to turn to tell the man it might
be better if he left when she felt something press into her side, and a
jolt of electricity tore through her. She fell limply to the floor.

The man behind her re-pocketed his stun gun and removed the gold
jacket, letting it drop to the dusty ground before he hefted the
unconscious woman up and over his shoulder. Good thing she was small, he
thought to himself. He kicked her dropped gun at the door. She wouldn't be
needing that, and it would be one more thing to distract her partner.
 
He used the keys he'd taken from the man who now occupied the trunk
of the car in the parking lot to open the back exit. His own car was
waiting right outside.

                              *

"Scully it's clear." Mulder called as he made his way to the door of
the store room. What was taking her so long? He hadn't heard anything.

He paused at the door. "Scully?"

Pushing the door open the first thing he noticed was the gun the door
pushed before it cleared. Then the jacket lying in the dust.

"SCULLY!" He searched the room frantically. She was gone. The rear
exit was open. 

He brought out his cellphone and dialed a number he had filed in his
memory.

"It's Mulder. I'm at the Oakcrest plaza on Hanover. I saw our man,
and I think he has Scully." His voice held the tight edge of rising panic.
He didn't hear Skinner's response over the phone as he cursed and ran out
to the front of the store. Bursting through the door he looked at the blue
Ford Taurus to see no one in the back seat.

"NO!" He ran to the car just as Cassy's head popped up from the back.

The relief was brief. Scully was still missing.

                              *

Cassy saw Mulder's pale face, and noted at once that there was no
sign of Scully or the real estate guy. She opened the door and climbed out
of the back seat, bat still in her hands.

"Mulder what is it?"

"He was no real estate agent. He took Scully."

Cassy's eyes flew wide. "How? I mean she was armed..."

"I don't know. He went into the storeroom with her and when I checked
on him two minutes later he was gone, out the back door. How did he know
where we'd be?"

Cassy felt a wave of nausea flow through her. Her eyes grew wide with 
comprehension and she struggled for breath. She leaned heavily against 
the car. Her knees went weak and she slid down the car to sit on the asphalt.

He was a telepath. When she had sought him out he had caught her. It was
entirely possible he had managed to get the list they were checking directly
from her mind. It was HER fault that he'd gotten a step ahead. Her actions 
which had led to Scully's disappearance. 

Her throat burned with bile at the thought.

"It's my fault. That was our telepath. He must have taken the list we were 
checking from my mind. I led him right to us." Her voice shook and the 
eyes she turned on him were filled with regret and unshed tears.

"You couldn't have anticipated this." His voice was soft. He wasn't blaming 
her. No, he was blaming himself. He was the one who profiled this animal. 
He was the one whose job it was to out-think this kind of person. He 
specialized in such leaps in logic. Yet he had missed this. 

He heard the distant sounds of sirens. He remembered the phone in his 
hand and held it to his ear. It wasn't a dial tone, just Skinner's voice issuing 
orders.

"Sir?"

"Glad you could rejoin us Agent Mulder." The sharp words bit over the
phone. "Police are on their way, as are a forensic's team. Mind telling me
just what happened?"

Mulder slid down the car to sit next to Cassy as he repeated the
whole story. 

Cassy fought back her own sense of guilt and raging headache as she
felt Mulder's panic pull at her. 

Mulder cursed himself. He'd lost her again.. It was only pure luck that had 
allowed her recovery on three other occasions. He noticed Cassy take his hand, 
and he pulled away. He didn't deserve the comfort.
.
Cassy saw him withdrawing again, and she couldn't let that happen. He couldn't
find Scully if he encased himself in his own misery. 

"Mulder. Listen to me, he's an expert on these games. He's eliminating 
everyone tracking him, and that means you too. Killing outright is not his 
style. Not yet anyway. But if he pulled where we were going from my head 
he may well have found out what might drive you crazy. So he took her. 
But he made a mistake Mulder..." 

It was only rage holding him together right now. "Mulder, we may 
not be the best of friends... but I may have spent enough time around Scully 
to track her emotions. He may have just given us a tracking device."

"If she's alive. And conscious." He spit out.

"She's alive. I'd feel it if she died violently this close to me. And
if he wants to play with her head he needs her conscious. We'll find her."
Cassy pressed reassurance on him as she touched his arm.

Chapter 12.
-------------

It seemed to take forever after the police and forensics teams
arrived for them to both give a detailed description of the suspect. Both
Mulder and Cassy wanted to get moving, and they were not allowed until
full statements were given and an APB put out on the man who had posed as
Mr. Niles.

The real Mr. Niles was found soon enough. He had been shoved into the
trunk of the car the imposter had been waiting near. He was quite dead.

Cassandra downed a handful of aspirin with a small bottle of juice
then waited in the passenger seat of the Taurus. Forty five agonizing
minutes after Scully had disappeared Mulder finally slipped back into the
driver's seat.

"Well?" He looked at her expectantly. 

Cassy raised an eyebrow at him. Just an hour ago he'd had a fit about her
reaching out with her gift. My, how situations change. She fought the surge
of jealousy rising like bile in her throat. 

He valued Dana Scully's life over her safety. It did no good. She closed her
eyes agaist the burning pain in her chest. If she was going to continue to be
involved with Mulder she was going to have to face this. She was going to
come second, always. Not to his work, but to this woman. His partner.

She sighed and thought of the emotional signature of Agent Scully.
It was a psychic scent. Over time this identifying group of feelings would
change, but it had been about an hour since Cassy had felt Dana Scully's
sentiments thrust on her. Like any good bloodhound she sought for a whiff
of that particular tang.

Was he even aware of his decision? No. Cassandra knew his emotions and
couldn't deny the ties to Scully were ironclad; stronger then either agent
realized. Could she live with that? Second best. An unwitting substitute.
She wanted to weep.

But that didn't matter now. Dana and and innocent child needed her. All else
would have to be dealt with later.

                                   *

Scully awoke in a room filled with light. Something buzzed in her
head for a while, and she quickly realized that she was on her back,
strapped to a hard table. It was eerily familiar, and her heart rate sped
up in response to the first wave of panic that hit her.
 
Two faces loomed into view, faces from a nightmare, or from Hell. 

"No... no... you're dead." She struggled in the restraints.

"Yes... your friend got a little too close for comfort." The oriental
man smiled without humor. "And so Dr. Ishimaru had to die. But my work
continues. Dying is very liberating Miss Scully. It allows certain
freedoms." He held up a hypodermic, watching some clear fluid bead at the
tip.

She fought against the rising hysteria, her body trembled in terror.
No! The second man... he was in prison. Well and truly locked away. 
Safe behind bars. If he'd have escaped she and Mulder would have 
been the first to know.

"No, damnit. YOU are not here." She twisted, feeling the restraints bite
into her. "You were no part of THIS. You were nothing more then a warped,
delusional, psychotic. This isn't real."

Donnie Pfaster just gave her a tight lipped smile. "I brought you
here Dana. I get to play with you when they're done." She felt his hand
stroke her hair and she fought the rising urge to vomit. "Such lovely
hair." He purred. "Such a vibrant red."

"Later. First there are a few more tests." Dr. Ishimaru pushed
Pfaster away as he lowered the needle to Scully's arm.

Her mind screamed out in denial. This was utterly impossible. Not
real. Not real at all. It couldn't be. 

A thought struck her. A picture of Cassandra Troy with a popsicle.
Scully bit the inside of her cheek, hard. The pain was immediate and tears
welled in her eyes. She focused on it, probed at the soreness with her
tongue while telling herself this wasn't real.

The room faded, and her head was filled with a roaring noise before
intense pain in her skull nearly blinded her. 

"Damn. Now you see why I prefer to work with children." She heard the
voice before her. She looked up to see the man whom she had thought to be
a real estate agent. She had thought him to be in his forties in the
parking lot, but his now wet hair had lost it's grey, and some of the
lines on his face were gone. He'd used makeup to age himself. 

"Regain your strength Agent Scully, we'll play again soon enough. I
imagine your partner is quite frantic by now." There was a sick enjoyment
in his eyes. "But now I have to go keep Kimmy company. I don't want her to
feel too neglected."

He had been standing in a doorway and the door now closed. "No! No,
you son of a bitch! Come back here. Leave her alone!"

She swung her feet but couldn't reach the door. She surveyed her
surroundings desperately seeking a means to escape. A bare lightbulb
provided illumination. 

She felt the pain in her shoulders, drawing her awareness to her hands, 
tied together with duct tape and looped over a meat hook so that her feet 
barely touched the floor. 

She was in an empty freezer unit. It was not cold, so the unit had been 
turned off for some time. She looked to the closed door with renewed 
fear. If it had a good seal... she could suffocate in here.

Scully forced her breathing to slow. This could be an illusion as
well. She probed at her sore cheek, but it didn't fade. Ok, so maybe this
part was real. And he was outside that door somewhere... mentally
torturing Kimberly Jenkins.

Scully started to saw her bound wrists against the dull meat hook.

                              *

Cassandra's brow furrowed. Mulder watched her carefully for the first
sign that she was again in the Boogie Man's grasp. It took about five
minutes before she opened her eyes.

"Fifteen miles northeast. I'm leaving some shields down. The closer
we get the better I'll feel her."

"You found her?" He started the car and pulled out onto the main
road.

"Oh ye of little faith," her smile was small and rueful, "Yah, but it's gonna 
be a game of hot and cold till we are on top of the place. The bad news 
is... she was scared shitless Mulder. I think he might be playing his head 
games with her." Cassandra didn't WANT to tell him that, but he had to know. 

"Are you going to call for backup or what?" Cassy looked at him
strangely.

"Not until we get there. Look Cassy, we're lucky Skinner's taking you
as seriously as he is... but he'd never pull other search units away to
play a game of hot and cold follow the leader. No, we wait until you say
we're right on top of the place... THEN we call for back up."

Cassandra nodded in understanding. She was shaking a bit as she left
her mind open enough. A hint of anger mixed with fear, helplessness 
tinged by determination marked the trail now.

"Go right here." She pointed to the next intersection. They
couldn't, it was a one way street. "Shit." 

Mulder kept going to the next street over. There they could make the
right. "Which way back or forward?"

"Ahead." Cassy's mouth twitched a little at what she felt. "You
know... she's pissed off more then she's afraid." 

Mulder managed a tight little grin. That was his Scully.

Cassy's eyes darted to all the side roads. "Left here. Oh please 
not another one way street..."

It wasn't. They made the turn easily.

Chapter 13.
---------------

He watched the child writhe in terror.

                              *


In her mind Kimmy couldn't see. She was somewhere cold and dark, and
she was standing in some slimy cold stuff up to her knees. Every once in a
while something in the slime would brush her leg. Or she'd hear a gurgling
sound. She was crying freely now. 

She wanted her mommy. She wanted her daddy who had always made the
bad guys go away before. But they weren't here. Only the dark, and the
thing in the slime.

It grabbed her ankle and she fell, screaming. Something awful filled
her mouth, and she spat the slimy liquid out even as she was dragged
forward by her ankle. 

Her screams echoed back at her. No one answered them. No one ever did. 
She couldn't get a hold of anything as she was pulled. Nothing at all. Then 
the thing let go, only to wrap around her body. 

Dim light filled the tunnel she was in now, allowing her to see at last. It was a 
tongue. It was dragging her to a wide open mouth with rows of sharp teeth.

She renewed her screams.

                              *

The waves of panic washed over him. It swept away the mild headache
dealing with the woman had given him. It filled him with its power. Yes.
Yes. YES! 

His body rocked slightly as he sat before the child, his breath coming 
in short little gasps. She had slipped into the comforting arms of 
oblivion for a while. He stroked her pale cheek with something akin to 
reverence. Soon enough she'd be ready to feed him again.

He looked at the closed door of the refrigeration unit. It was
probably time to give her some air anyway.

He opened the door to see the agent hanging limply from the meat hook. A
trickle of blood seeped from underneath the tape holding her wrists. She
glared at him with loathing and hatred.

"Now see, you went and hurt yourself. I could have told you this
wasn't sharp enough to cut through the tape, and you aren't heavy enough
to break the tape as many times as I have it wrapped." He smiled at her.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" The woman's anger flowed from 
her, lovely in it's strength.

"I'm the Boogie Man. That's what you call me anyway." A cold, callous smile 
slithered over his face He moved to the side so she could see the child crumpled 
on the floor just in her line of sight. 

"Bastard." She spat. "It takes a fucking big man to pick on little kids!  You're 
nothing but a overblown bully. Getting off on doing something any 
twelve year old with a stick can do. You're a disgusting little toad." Her eyes 
blazed.

"You cannot begin to fathom what I am. Your words cannot anger me. 
You're nothing more then a yapping little dog. No threat and just as far 
beneath me."

"Why are you doing this? Why children?" She twisted in her bonds again,
feeling her shoulders wrench.

"Because the fear of children is not only the strongest emotion, it's
 the easiest to induce. It's what I was born to do. Do these answers
enlighten you at all? I didn't think so. You can't comprehend how
high on the evolutionary scale I am. I'm the step above you on the food
chain." His grin was malicious.

"Right up there with the buzzards and maggots, " she sneered.

He sighed, but made no move to get any closer to her. He knew she'd 
strike out with her feet if he came in range. If he tried to retape her wrists 
she'd fight as well. So she would have to suffer the discomfort.

"You're arms must hurt something awful, and your wrists are probably 
burning. I suppose I can't play with you anymore can I?"

She felt her arms quiver and spasm, each individual strand of muscle 
screamed in agony. Her shoulders were threatening to pull from 
their sockets.

"What a shame.  You're a lot of fun. Your terror, when it is properly 
aroused, runs quite  deep. You're nightmares are delicious. You could 
keep me fed for weeks."

"I hope I gave you indigestion." She spat pulling once more at her
wrists despite the pain.

He chuckled. "You have a refreshing sense of humor, Dana. Your anger
is refreshing as well. I am not limited to fear you know. I can take in
just about any emotion. It is just that fear is the most... delicious." 

He stepped back through the door. "I have to go now. My guests will
be arriving soon. I really think I should be ready for them don't you?
It seems fitting that your partner will be giving my bride to me, doesn't it?
You'll have enough air to breathe for a while more anyway. After that...
it probably won't matter any more." As he swung the door closed again she
could swear she heard him humming "Here Comes the Bride".

                              *

"Ahead! It's just ahead!" Cassy pointed slightly to the left.
"There!" She closed her eyes. Yes. Dana Scully was here. In that building.

It was a boarded up corner store. The letters DE and I still hung
above the door. 
 
Mulder pulled into an old parking lot and reached for his phone. He
froze mid movement. 

Cassy frowned. "Mulder, what's wrong?" 

She saw him slump over at the same moment she felt the anger and terror
flow from him. 

"NO!" She shook his shoulder. That son-of-a-bitch got him. 

"Not if I can help it." She closed her eyes and thrust herself into
Mulder's dreams. It wasn't the cautious, controlled entry she had always
taken with him before on the numerous times she had either banished his
nightmares or created more interesting and pleasurable dream settings.
This was the violent jolt of panic.

                              *

She almost didn't notice that she had succeeded because she was still in the
car, still parked outside the deli. But the scent of garlic was stronger
here, and Mulder was NOT in the car. Of course, the best illusion was one
based on fact. Mulder may not even realize this wasn't real.

She opened the car door and hefted the baseball bat in her hands. 

She scanned the entrance of the derelect building. All was still. She ran 
into the ajar side door of the building. "So far so good," Cassy murmured 
warily.

She didn't know the extent of this guy's power. Maybe he couldn't really 
concentrate on more then one adult mind at a time. She certainly hoped not.

She ran to the side door of the building. It was slightly ajar.

"Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly." She whispered as she 
opened it and stepped inside.

                              *

Mulder heard a child whimpering up ahead. He tried to make as little
sound as he could as he moved through the empty shop area. The sound was
coming from the back. He strained his hearing. No sign yet of the backup
he'd called. 

Suddenly blinding light struck him from the door way. He
instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes. Then he heard Scully
scream.

With no further thought he ran into the light, his gun ready. At once
he was unable to move, unable to speak, almost unable to breathe. 

::It's come full circle at last.:: the voice in his head was
terrifyingly familiar.  ::Don't worry, she'll be all right.::

He couldn't even scream.

Chapter 14.
----------------
    
Cassandra moved through a dimly illuminated hall. The only source of
light was a blinding glow at the end. By now she felt the fear battling
with rage coming from Mulder. She suspected what she might find when she
reached the light.

She had no sooner entered the room of light than the light itself
faded. She saw Mulder, he'd been standing just inside a door on her left.
He fell, his knees giving out from under him.

"Mulder... Fox this isn't..." Her words were drown in a rush of air
and a roar. She felt incredible heat at her back, searing. She smelled
burnt hair and immediately dropped and rolled. Flames filled the hall
she'd just come from, and the door behind Mulder. She checked, and sure
enough the ends of her hair had been aflame, indeed she might have gone up
if she hadn't rolled.

Mulder was trying to push himself up off the floor, blind panic in his
eyes, rolling over her. The heat was intense. Smoke filled the room and
she scrambled on hands and knees to his side.

She looked around, by now the flames covered all the walls and were
starting on the ceiling. Debris began to fall as  flaming cardboard
ceiling tiles dropped randomly.

She touched Mulder's arm. He was shaking. Fire. What had made the
mysterious Boogie Man choose this illusion? Was Mulder afraid of fire?
He'd never confessed such a fear to her.

"Cassy." She looked into his eyes, seeing a naked terror there. "We
have to find Kimberly, quickly. They took Scully." He tried to get up
again. "I can barely stand."

Cassy gripped his shoulders. "It's not real. Mulder listen to me, you
are still in the car. You were overcome before you could even call for
backup." 

She saw his eyes gaze at the flames, felt the panic rising to drive
her mad, along with him.

"Mulder, do you trust me? I know you don't trust easily... but do you
trust ME?"

He took a shuddering breath, the air scalded his lungs, and the smoke
added to the burning. He coughed, but nodded.

Cassy fought against the fear. She knew HE was here somewhere,
feeding off it. Feeding off Mulder, enjoying this twisted game. She felt
the fear become lost in the anger that flowed over her, a red haze of
rage. She felt her mind reach out... Only to snatch it back with an effort
of sheer will that almost tore her apart. NO, she would not do that again.
Never again. But if it was the only way to save Mulder...
 
She shook her head. No, he wasn't in PHYSICAL danger. Not yet anyway.
And to allow her mind to strike out would only feed this adversary more,
not drive him mad with guilt, fear and pain.

"Come on." She helped haul Mulder to his feet. "You and me, together.
We walk right into it. Face the fear." She took his arm.

She saw the raw terror as much as felt it, the doubt in his eyes. 

"TRUST me." She took his hand. He looked at her and nodded. The roar
of the flames, the intense heat sucking away every drop of moisture in
their bodies drained him of the ability to speak.

His grip on her hand was painful, she could almost feel the bones
grind together as she ran with him at the flames, rushing headlong into
the fire. She felt it then... an outpouring of pure love, it came from
within herself and bathed him in it's protective embrace. He was nearly
gibbering mad with terror, yet he was willing to run to the heart of that
fear for no other reason than her word.

She gasped, opening her eyes to see that she was still in the car.
She turned to Mulder. "See, I told you so."

He hadn't moved. He was still slumped against the door.

Cassy considered her options. If she went back in then she could very
well be thrown out again. That is what must have happened, for she would
never have exited the illusion without him of her own volition. 

Physical stimuli, it had helped her fight it before. She leaned over
and kissed Mulder's lips. No response. Oh well there was a first time for
everything. She bit her lip. Ok, so pain it was. She pinched his thigh,
hard. Nothing. What? She slapped his face. Once, twice, to no response.

She pulled the phone from his limp fingers. It didn't have a speed
dial option. Should she call 911? No, it would take to long to explain. The
answer came to her at once. There was an automatic redial. She jabbed the
button and heard the pulse tones  then a single ring.

"Talk to me." The words barked into her ear.

"We're at the corner of King George and East. Ms. Scully is inside,
and the Boogie Man is inside Mulder's head. Get your people out here now
Mr. Skinner. He's doing things to their minds, and I can't just sit by and
let it happen."

"Yes you will, Ms. Troy, you sit in that goddamn car until trained
officers arrive. Do you hear me?"

"Sorry... I think this is a bad connection. Your breaking up. Come 
again?"She hung up with only a twinge of regret.  She didn't want to 
think of how pissed off he was going to be when he got here.

Feeling a sense of deja vu she slipped from the front seat of the
car, the baseball bat in hand. No need for side doors. The bastard knew
she was coming. 

She heard the cellphone in the car ringing urgently and ignored it.

                              *

It was pitch black, and cold. The only sound was that of his own
breathing. 

"Cassy?" He didn't like the way his voice cracked. She had been by
his side in the middle of Hell, he'd trusted her and she brought him...
here. No where. Nothing, not even the sound of her breathing. 

Alright, once they leapt through the flames they should have either
burnt to a crisp, or somehow gotten clear, OR he should have snapped out
of it, if she was right, and it looked like she was, then everything
around him was the invention of the Boogie Man. All illusion. And he was
in the car. Great. So how do you get out, he thought to himself. He HAD to
get out. Scully needed him, Kimberly Jenkins needed him, even Cassandra
needed him. 

Oh God, Cassandra. He rubbed at his face in the darkness. He'd been
holding her hand, and at the moment the thought of actually jumping into
the fire had been enough to occupy his mind and turn his bones to jelly
while twisting his guts. 

But now... now he remembered the emotions that swept over him as they had 
made the jump. A warm cocoon of comfort and completeness. Love. It had 
come from Cassandra, of that there was no doubt. 

It terrified him. He was suddenly aware that his commitment to her
paled in comparison to her love for him. Although she was brave, selfless,
giving, and beautiful, he would never love her enough to place her before
his quest. Not like he could...

He shook his head. He'd have to deal with the ramifications of THAT
later. Right now he had to get out of this place. This darkness that only
existed in the mind of a madman.

Chapter 15.
---------------

Cassandra held the bat carefully, not too tight not too loose. She
moved through the empty store front.

"Ok, I'm here you son-of-a-bitch. Come out and face me!" Her shout
echoed in the eerie emptiness.

There was no answer. She saw the open door to the back room and moved
to it cautiously, listening for the slightest sound. There was breathing,
coming from the other side of a butcher block counter in the center of the
room.

She moved through the door with a quick look to either side, ready to
smash in the head of anyone lurking there. Nothing.

She rounded the counter with her bat raised to strike. It was
Kimberly Jenkins, curled into a ball. Her wrists and mouth covered with
duct tape. 

Cassy dropped to one knee and checked the girl's pulse. Erratic, but strong. 
Her eyes were closed, so she had to assume the child was out cold.

Cassy stood again, scanning the room, her outer shields down.
Fear mixed with rage and frustration emanated from the door of the 
walk-in freezer unit. 

Scully? Yes, the woman was in there, and conscious.

Cassy couldn't see a single sign of the self proclaimed Boogie Man.
She opened the freezer door with one hand, the other still clutching the
bat. Dana Scully was against the far wall. Her hands over her head. She
too had been bound with duct tape.

Cassy took a step toward the other woman, but Scully's eyes went
wide. "Behind you!" 

The words hadn't even completely left Scully's mouth before Cassandra
felt a shove from behind. Then the door slammed closed.

"Oh shit." Cassy turned to shove against the door. It didn't budge.
There was no handle on the inside. 

Damn... Mulder was out there, completely helpless. What had she done?

                              *

He'd felt her enter the building, her light shining like a beacon he
could not ignore. But she had managed to interfere with his games. Just
moments before, she'd started putting together the keys of how to escape
his illusions. And she'd used that knowledge to help the man. 

The resistance was painful. If he had not fed so well from the child
it might have been debilitating. But he had been able to separate her
consciousness from Agent Mulder's and to lock the single most annoying
person in his life into a tight little place in his mind. 

Concentrating on the physical and the etherial worlds simultaneously was 
straining. She was here, so close to his trap, he had to divert some of his 
attention, enough to watch from his hiding place on top of the freezer unit as 
she walked into the room, checking on the child before heading for the door 
beneath him.
 
When she walked through the door he lost more concentration as he
swung down, dropping behind her to shove her further inside. For the
moment she could share the prison with Agent Scully.

That done, he could now focus his full attention on destroying the
man.

                              *

For a moment the darkness seemed less oppressive, and the silence was
not as engulfing. Mulder was suddenly aware of an ache in his leg, and a
faint stinging in his cheeks. The very fact that those feelings were so
out of place forced him to focus on them. 

With a jolt he was back in the car. His head hurt. That was an
understatement. It felt like a whisky hangover minus the nausea. His
cellphone was on the seat beside him. Cassandra was not. 

With a curse at the stubbornness and downright foolishness of women
in general, and one in particular he got out of the car. The cellphone
rang. He picked it up in irritation.

"Mulder." He winced at the ache just speaking sent through his head.

"Mulder, backup in on the way. Please tell me Ms. Troy is with you."
The sound of a car horn over the phone told Mulder Skinner was on the road
himself.

"No sir, she's not. I don't have any choice sir. I'm going in. Get
that backup here as fast as possible." Mulder hung up before Skinner had a
chance to order him to stay put. He switched off the phone for good
measure. 

He checked the front door. It was open.

"You know Agent Mulder, a wasted mind is a terrible thing. Why don't
you just let me put you out of my misery?" The voice came from 
everywhere, and the pain slicing through his head gave Mulder an 
idea why. 

He was a projective telepath as well as a psychic vampire. He not only 
spoke the words, but forced them into Mulder's mind. The speaker, 
however was no where to be seen. 

"I'm sorry I allowed myself to get distracted by your lady friends.
If you'd stayed where you were, you and I could have played for such 
a long time."

"What have you done with them?" Mulder searched every corner of the
store front for some sign of the man to no avail.

"Oh what a pair they are. You realize your little red haired friend
is quite expendable. She has such rich fear though. She is quite exquisite
in her own way. Do you have any idea how much most women fear rape Agent
Mulder? How wonderful that fear can be?"

Mulder felt the rage boil up within him. Turning the edges of his vision red.

"But Cassandra..." There was a chuckle coming from everywhere at
once. "once I teach her all we are meant to be... what a wonderful bride
she will make. I haven't yet had the pleasure Agent Mulder... is she any
good? Does she scream? I think she likes it rough. Are you ever rough? Is
she twice as lovely when you make her come?"
 
Mulder ground his teeth. This guy was baiting him, and he was being
none to subtle about it. He wanted Mulder to get angry, careless. Well the
anger was there, but he wasn't about to let it make him insipiant.

The door to the back room was open. He had to be in there, on the
other side. Now, how was he armed, and where were the hostages?

                              *

Cassandra fished her miniature pocket knife from her front jeans
pocket. It took a bit of sawing, but she finally managed to cut Scully
down. Dana winced as she slowly lowered her arms. Pain stabbed 
through her shoulders as over strained muscles repositioned themselves.
 
"Are you okay?" Cassy carefully removed the tape from Scully's
bleeding wrists.

"I've been better. What the Hell are you doing in here? Where's
Mulder?"

Tears blurred Cassy's vision. "The Boogie Man got into his head. My
God Dana, he's helpless ..."

Chapter 16.
--------------

"Think we can bust it open?" Scully motioned to the door. 

Cassy looked around the freezer thoughtfully, and stood on tip toe to 
bring down the meat hook Scully so recently adorned.

"Let's hope the seal is dry rotted." 

Scully nodded and both women checked along the door for the best
place to begin prying. Scully found a spot a bit wider than the rest and
Cassy applied the hook, pushing on the seal. It didn't budge. 

"Feel up to lending a hand?" Cassy managed through gritted teeth. 

Scully tested her aching shoulders'.  Alright, but she couldn't get
her hands on the hook, not in any position that would give them leverage. 

"My legs. I'll put my back against yours and brace my feet on the
wall. I'll push against you. Do you think your arms and ribs can take it?"
At Cassy's nod she continued. " If this works, prepare to fall."

Cassy braced her palms against the hook and bent forward a little,
feeling Scully press her back against her. The force increased on her back
and Cassy pressed on the hook, her hands trapped between her ribs and the
metal. 
 
"One, two, three... HEAVE." Both women gave everything they had at
the end of Scully's count. There was a satisfying hiss just as the hook
gave and both women fell. Cassy on her stomach and Scully on her back on
top of her.

"Cassy are you alright?" Scully spoke softly as she quickly rolled
off. 

"No problem. I didn't need those ribs anyway." She got to her knees
and pushed against the door. It gave an inch then stopped. "It's got a
padlock."

"The sides of this freezer are aluminum. It can't be that strong.
Let's put our shoulders to it." Both women stood and got into position.

"You know this guy's problem?" Cassy said as she readied to rush the
door. 

"He's a psychopathic megalomaniac?" Scully quirked an eyebrow at her.
 
"He's a psychopathic megalomaniac with no IMAGINATION. He uses movie
ideas on the kids, I don't know what he did with you, but unless Mulder's
fear of fire is a NEW thing he was playing on old fears with him. Nothing
at all original."

Scully shook her head. "So how does that help us?"

"No matter how smart you are, if you have no imagination someone is
bound to out-think you. Ready?"

                              *

Mulder kept his eyes on the open doorway. Two could play this
game.

"I doubt you'd be able to handle the job. Cassy doesn't like passive
men. You have to put a little effort into it. Cassandra's definitely high
maintenance."

"So, you think I am unable to be aggressive?" The voice around him
chuckled.

"Only with people who can't fight back. And really, where is your
sense of originality? You need to be a bit more inventive."

He couldn't tell if he'd managed to piss the guy off, but the silence
may have been telling.

There was a groaning sound from the back, not human, the sound of
straining metal.

"Fuck." That was the Boogie Man. He was distracted. There was a
crashing noise, then another. It was now or never.

Mulder moved through the door, sweeping the room. Nothing. All of a
sudden the door of the freezer burst open, and Scully and Cassy spilled
out.

Where was the suspect, and where was Kimberly Jenkins?

                              *

The first shove moved the door a bit. Scully and Cassy met each
other's eyes and nodded. "One, two, THREE!" The padlock gave and they
spilled out. Cassy landed on her side, but Scully managed a controlled
roll that brought her to a one kneed crouch between one breath and the
next.

"Ooo, throw in some jell-o and I know I've had this dream before."

Cassy managed to get up and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw
Mulder standing in the door, gun out and ready. But where was the Boogie
Man?

                              *


"Hello!" He stood up from the other side of the counter, one arm
wrapped around Kimberly Jenkins' neck, the other hand held a gun to her
head. "I know, not terribly original yet again. But hey, I'm under
pressure." 

The child was awake, and her eyes were large with fear. Her mouth and
wrists were still taped. 

"Now if you'll excuse me... we can continue this at another time." He
backed toward the door, his eyes darting back and forth between the three
people facing him. Only Mulder had a gun. Cassy spied the baseball bat
laying inside the freezer.

"Don't even think it, honey. I can blow her brains all over that wall
before you managed to even pick it up."

"Then take me." Cassy edged a bit closer."It's me you want anyway,
isn't it? Not the kid, you can pick up another kid anywhere, but where can
you find another empath? Do you think I want to face life never feeling
that rush again? Take me. They won't shoot you as long as you have me with
you."
 
"Oh how touching," he sneered. "But I somehow doubt you plan on being
a willing hostage."

He took another backwards step towards the door.

"You are not leaving here." Mulder's voice was steady.

"I don't think you can stop me."As he smirked, pain lanced through
Mulder's head, on top of the previous headache his vision swam. His skull
was about to burst.


Chapter 17.
--------------

Three things happened at once.

                              *

Kimberly Jenkins saw the Boogie Man hurting Mr. Mulder. She knew Mr.
Mulder and Ms. Scully, because they'd been to her house before. They 
were her daddy's friends. Trying to remember the things she had seen on 
TV she arched her back and slammed the back of her head into the Boogie 
Man's face. It hurt, a lot. But she heard him scream, and it felt good. He made
her scream enough. It was payback time.

                              *

Cassy saw Mulder clasp at his head and she saw Kimberly strike.
Without thought she rushed forward and grabbed the Boogie Man's gun hand,
drawing it upwards. A gunshot tore through the air.

                              *

Dana Scully dove for the baseball bat inside the freezer as the shot
rang out. The Boogie man had dropped Kimberly and was wrestling with
Cassy. She had both hands wrapped around his gun wrist, and he had grabbed
a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back. Blood poured from his nose.
Kimberly had managed to break it.

"You bitch!" He snarled into her face.

Cassandra Troy smiled at him, despite the pain. Then she was in. Her 
hands around his wrist were the contact she needed. 

She pushed into his head and swam in pure emotion. She punished him
with an onslaught of disgust, loathing, hatred, and fury. This was not a
loss of control he could feed on, because the initial thrust of her attack
caught him off gaurd. For a moment he was stunned but then he began to
drink her in, draining her.

                              *

The pain of his attack faded the moment Kimberly had smashed the
Boogie Man's nose with the back of her head. He heard the gunshot and
focused, seeing Cassandra wrestling the man for his gun. Kimberly was
scrambling on her knees to get away, crawling awkwardly toward Mulder. He
tried to get a clear shot but Cassandra and his target kept twisting, if
he fired he could hit her.

"Cassandra, drop!"

She didn't. Instead both figures stiffened. They froze, and a
heartbeat later Cassandra began to shake, the same tiny convulsions she
had had at the Jenkins' and in the car. He aimed for the self styled
Boogie Man's head. Before he could fire a resounding CRACK filled the
room. Both Cassandra and the Boogie man fell, revealing Scully behind
them, with the baseball bat. She'd clobbered him in the back of the head.

Kimberly's crying was the only sound in the room until the distant
wail of police sirens filtered through the shop's walls.

Cassandra moaned from under the suspect's bulk. She opened her eyes
and started to push him off. At that moment his grip on her hair tightened
and his gun pressed under her chin. 

"You were supposed to understand." His pain filled eyes bore into
hers, and they were empty of anything human. "You're going to hell with 
me, bitch."

                              *

Skinner was the third to pull into the parking lot, throwing his car
into park he saw Mulder's Taurus, and the other officers scrambling out
of their cars, weapons out as they moved to surround the building.

They all heard the single gunshot from within.

                              *

Kimberly held on to her father for dear life. She had never seen her
daddy cry before. She didn't know daddies could cry. But Mommy's tears
came as no surprise. She looked back at the car she had come home in. Nice
Mr. Skinner sat in the front seat, looking into the back seat where Mr.
Mulder sat looking really funny. Like he couldn't breath right. Ms. Scully
kept touching his arm. She would make him feel better. Kimberly knew it. 

Kimberly was fine. She knew the Boogie Man had been inside her head, and 
none of it was real. She knew she'd have nightmares for a while, and she 
would have to talk with someone who would explain it all to her, to make HER 
feel better. But for now she was home. Mommy and Daddy loved her. That 
was all that mattered.

                              *

Skinner smiled briefly at the sight of the family's reunion. But that
smile disappeared as he looked into the back seat. Right now lectures on
proper procedures and following orders, not to mention hanging up on their
superiors were NOT what those two needed, especially not Agent Mulder.

"I want you to see the department therapist first thing tomorrow
agent Mulder, no ifs, ands or buts. That much at least will be by the
book." He had a hard time maintaining his glare into the rear view mirror.

"But for now I'll take you to Mercy. You are going to be impossible to
handle until you see for yourself that she's fine. And Agent Scully, I want 
you checked out there as well. You've been through a lot."

Walter Skinner didn't want to acknowledge just how much HE wanted to
assure himself of Miss Troy's safety as well.

                                *

Mulder stood in the waiting room, too tired to pace, too anxious to
sit. When Cassy was wheeled through the door he managed to smile. They
hadn't bothered washing the blood away and she was pitifully pale. The
smile turned into a grimace.

"Yah, I bet I look bad. With the stuff they gave me for my head I
could care less though." She smiled, there was a glassy look to her eyes.
"They should sell this stuff on the street."

"Then we'd have to arrest you." Scully's smile was tight.

Mulder  hugged Cassy  gently. "We have to talk..."

"You know I'd usually be the last one to stop you when you are
feeling comunica... comun... when you want to talk. But right now I'm so
high I can probably see the rooftops, and I'm still a bit shaky."

"It isn't every day I get a man's head blown off in front of my face. It's not a
very nice experience." She reached up to touch her hair. "If I don't go
home and get his blood and grey matter out of my hair I'm going to have a
very unbecoming fit of hysterics. I think the lovely drugs have held them
off this long." 

He nodded, understanding. "Don't worry too much, Mulder. I'm sure I'll
get over it. I saw you out of the corner of my eye, and I managed to wrap
myself in as tight a shield as I could manage. His death was painful...
but more manageable than it would have been if I were unprepared." She
smiled a bit, weakly. "Take me home, and come see me tomorrow. We do have
a lot to talk about."

Cassy's head hurt even contemplating the coming conversation. She'd
seen his fears before. Seen his nightmares, but never had she seen him as
close to losing it as he had been tonight. And now he knew... He knew
that she loved him. And he didn't love her. Not the same way. No, he 
loved the woman beside him. He just didn't know it yet. She wasn't 
looking forward to tomorrow.

But all she wanted to do now was sleep. Sleep, without nightmares.

*****************************