Title - Maplewood Monster
      Author - Jodie
      E-Mail address -PeachAcid@aol.com	
      Rating - R, how about
      Category - XR, a little H
      Spoilers - everything, including movie, but it's not like
they go into depth talking about anything specific.
      Keywords - Mulder/Scully romance
      Summary - A weird-ass monster is freaking out the
people in Milford, NH.  Mulder and Scully are called in to
investigate.  
      Disclaimer: What, you really think I created these
characters?  Think I'm that smart?  Or are you that dumb? 
Sorry, that was mean. No, I didn't create them.  Oh well.  =)

	

	Maplewood
	Milford, NH
	7:45pm

	"The monster strangled my dog.  My other dog. I
had two.  My dog, here, Frisbee, she senses anything that so
much as comes near the house.  The dogs were outside, and
suddenly I heard one dog yelping and the other barking. I
ran outside and saw Amanda, that's the other dog's name,
on the ground, writhing.  Frisbee was barking at Amanda, it
seemed.  I looked closer, and saw the monster.  It was blue-
ish white, with long fingers and slimy looking skin.   Frisbee
ran to me, and as I looked down at the dog, I heard Amanda
yelp one last time.  I looked back up and the monster was
gone.  Amanda lay on the ground, dead.  Poor little thing
was only three years old. I figured Frisbee could use some
company.  They got along so good."
	"Did you see the monster's face?" I asked, looking at
the man.  His eyes were ringed with bags, the obvious result
of sleepless nights. I had had my share of those.  His grey
hair was cut long, and a thick piece would fall into his face
every now and again.  
	"No, ma'am," he replied, flipping the hair out of his
face.
	"May we see the place where the monster attacked
your dog?" Mulder asked. I looked over at him, and saw
that his own eyes were circled.  I frowned in worry.
	"Well, now, it's getting quite late.  I wouldn't want
you to get hurt. I know it looks light enough, but believe
me.  Why don't I get you settled for the night?"
	Mr. Hodgson stood, motioning for us to follow.  We
walked out of the yard containing a beautifully clear blue
pool onto a paved area where a truck, a fairly new Volvo,
and our rental car were parked, and then into the colonial
house.  
	"You've got a lovely place here, sir," I commented,
and the man looked back at me, smiling.
	"You like it?  My wife and I bought it in '70...had
the pool installed the next year.  Two of our kids were
already in college, but our daughter came with us.  The
three of us kept it up real nice.  My daughter went away to
college and it was just my wife and me.  Then, my wife died. 
I'm afraid I've been letting the place go a little."
	"Who cuts your grass?" Mulder broke in. 'Why does
he care about grass?' I thought, looking around at it.  It was
all lovely and green.  The air was almost damp with
humidity,  and a mosquito landed on my arm and I swatted
at it, wishing I'd put on some bug spray.  It was so hot out I
was surprised Mr. Hodgson was wearing pants.  I couldn't
understand how Mulder could stand wearing a suit; my own
suit was feeling like a heavy wool blanket.
	"My friend Bob comes and uses my tractor, cuts all
the grass.  Why?"
	"Just curious," Mulder answered, somewhat
mysteriously.
	"Well, let's go inside, then, shall we?"
	"It was very nice of you to let us stay here, Mr.
Hodgson."
	"The nearest hotel is on the other side of town,
ma'am, and it's not that wonderful.  Besides, I like the
company."
	I followed Mulder and Mr. Hodgson into a dimly lit
hall.  A large box on one side was filled with wooden
blocks, and there was a small chalk board with scribblings
on it against the wall; evidence of grandchildren.  We
entered the kitchen, walking through the brightly lit room. 
The dining area was right next to the kitchen, with a counter
separating them.  Through a wooden door, and into a more
formal room we went. The man's dog followed us, sniffing
around and playing.  I realized I didn't have my bag, then
saw with a small smile that Mulder was carrying it.  I
stepped beside him and removed the suitcase from his hand
with another smile.  We went up to the second floor of the
house.  The dog didn't follow, and the man seemed to have
some trouble climbing the stairs.
	"Don't usually go up here," he remarked.  "Ms.
Scully, you can take the room down the hall next to the
bathroom...it's on your right," he said motioning toward a
door down a short hall on his right.  
	"Call me Dana," I said as I walked toward it and
paused, listening, waiting to hear him tell Mulder where he
would be.
	"Mr. Mulder, you can sleep in the bedroom around
the corner, here.  Through that door, there, and then you
take a left.  I'll leave you to get settled.  My room is at the
foot of the stairs, to the left, if you need me.  Feel free to
help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I'm going to bed
now.  Good night.  Good night Ms. Scully...I mean, Dana,"
the man called to me and I nodded.  He carefully descended
the stairs, and as I watched him I felt Mulder's eyes on me. 
I lifted my own eyes to meet his and raised my eyebrows in
question.
	"You okay, Mulder?"
	"Yeah.  Are you going to bed now?"
	"No...I think I'll change into something...cooler."
	"Did you bring your bathing suit?"
	"Actually, yes.  I knew there was a river down in the
woods, and I'd heard it was going to be unbearably hot and
humid.  Which it is."
	"Wanna go swimming?"
	Mulder wanted me to go swimming with him?  In
that Speedo he wore?  Hmmm....
	"Sure."
	I went into my room to change.  The bed was firm,
of which I was glad; I cannot stand mushy beds.  The room
was quite large; a dresser with a large mirror was against
wall; against the same wall was a wide full length mirror.  I
changed into my bathing suit, a silver TYR racing back suit
I'd had since college.  I pulled a pair of jeans over the suit
and exited the room.  'Towels' was my immediate thought,
and I went into the bathroom to find a few towels.  Finding
two of sufficient size, I turned to leave and find Mulder, and
I almost crashed into him.
	"Mulder, what are you doing?" I cried in a whisper,
not wanting to wake our sleeping host.
	"Looking for you and some towels.  Ready?"
	"Yeah."
	Mulder was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I
felt self-conscious wearing no top, but I had seen Mulder's
look of approval, so I tried not to think about it. I followed
him through the darkened house out to the pool yard.  A
mosquito bit my arm and as I slapped at it, I started to go
back to the house.
	"Scully?" Mulder called, and I turned, waiting for
him.
	"Bug spray," I said, and he nodded.  I walked back
to the house and found a small spray bottle of the smelly
chemical.  We sprayed it on and went out to the pool.  The
heat was almost unbearable.  I put the towels on a bench on
the patio in the pool yard, then sat and waited for Mulder to
find a light so we could see.  The darkness of the night was
velvety, and I shivered despite the heat.  I held my hand
before my face, realizing I couldn't even see that far.  I
turned toward the direction of what Mr. Hodgson had
referred to as the pub, a building the size of a small house,
anxiously awaiting Mulder's return.  I heard movement to
my left, and turned to look.  I saw nothing; I knew I would
not.  I found myself holding my breath, and again I shivered.  
	Someone--or something--hit me from the side,
smashing me under it onto the damp grass beside the patio. 
I called for Mulder, and, just before I was hit over the head,
a light flicked on.  The blow to my head was hard enough to
cause excruciating pain, but I did not fall into
unconsciousness.  I heard someone running toward me--
Mulder, I assumed--and felt cold, slippery arms encircle me. 
	I was thrown into the pool, and I found myself
floating, barely able to move.  I struggled to keep my head
above the surface, and slowly began to sink further and
further into the darkened pool.  I heard a muffled splash and
soon felt strong, warm arms around me.  Mulder pulled me
to the edge of the pool, and I sputtered, coughing up water. 
I looked up at him, blinked several times, and felt my head
grow heavier and heavier. My head fell against his chest
when I could no longer hold it upright.  The pain in my head
was numbing, almost blinding.  It was worse than being
unconscious. I shivered, and Mulder pulled me closer.  He
grabbed a towel with one hand, still holding me with the
other, and began to pat me dry.  With half closed eyes I saw
the white towel turning red from my blood.  My head spun
once more and I felt like I was falling.
	When I opened my eyes the first thing on which I
focused was Mulder.  His head was resting on my hand, his
eyes were closed, and his breathing was even.  I blinked and
tried to focus.  The bright lights and mellow coloring of the
walls helped me realize where I was: the hospital.  I debated
whether to wake Mulder; he looked so peaceful.  I lay,
staring down at him, for about five minutes before I decided
to wake him.
	"Mulder," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.
	He stirred slightly, and I moved my hand from under
his cheek.  He raised his sleep-heavy head and focused on
me.
	"Scully," he said, stretching his neck and arms. "Are
you okay?"
	"What happened?"
	"We were going to go swimming.  Something
attacked you, hit you over the head.  Then it threw you in
the pool.  I'd found the light just in time.  I got you out of
the pool, and you passed out a few minutes after that.  Gary
and I brought you here."
	"Who's Gary? What hospital?"
	"Gary Hodgson; St. Joseph's Medical Center.  We're
on the edge of the center of Milford."
	"You said something.  I remember cold, slippery
arms, Mulder."
	"Did they feel human?"
	"From what I remember, there were hands. I don't
remember any hair on the arms, but I wasn't searching for
details at the time."
	"There were no footprints of any kind, and Gary's
dog wasn't awakened at all.  Animals usually sense intruders
better than anyone else."
	"What do you think it was?"
	"I don't think you're ready to ask that question,
Scully."
	"You don't think it was that fluke worm guy again?"
	"Maybe something like that."
	"Mulder, have I ever told you that you're nuts?"
	"Yes, yes you have. Many a time."
	"I'm telling you again. Mulder, you're nuts."
	"Well, I'm not saying it was Flukeman or whatever
you want to call him.  Maybe something like Flukeman. 
The dog didn't sense anything.  Gary says that whenever a
cat so much as steps near the barns the dog is up and
barking."
	"Flukeman's ghost."
	"Exactly my thought."
	"You think, Mulder, that Flukeman died, and a
ghost has come back to try to kill me. After all these years."
	"Maybe."
	"Maybe Elvis lives on Mars."
	Mulder muttered something, and Scully leaned
closer to him.
	"What did you say?"	
	"Nothing."
	"No, you said something in Eastern Oregon."
	"I didn't."
	"You think Elvis lives in Eastern Oregon, don't
you?"
	"'Ghost' might not be the right term to use, Scully. 
You said you felt it," Mulder changed the subject and
looked away from me.
	"What, then?  Don't animals sense ghosts as well?"
	"Supposedly."
	I sighed and looked out the window.  A tree with
large, round leaves grew just outside.  A bird sat on the
branch and chirped.  
	"Thank you," I said, still looking at the bird.
	"What?" Mulder asked.  I could feel his eyes on me
and I turned to look at him.
	"Thank you. You saved my life. Again."
	"Anyone else would have done the same," he
mumbled, looking down at his lap.
	"Anyone else wasn't there, Mulder," I said, reaching
my hand out and touching his jaw with my fingertips.   "You
were there. Thank you."
	He was silent, and I knew, I understood that he
never accepted the thankfulness he deserved.  After all the
times he'd saved my life....I couldn't even count how many
times.  Starting back when we first began working together.
	"Mulder, do you remember Bambi?"
	"Bambi?  Dr. Berenbom?"
	"Yeah."
	"Well, yeah.  She and that other doctor got married;
she sent me a little note about it.  Why?"
	"What ever happened to the metallic cockroaches?"
	"I don't know."
	"I was just curious."
	"Do you want to go check it out?"
	"No.  No, I don't."
	Mulder looked at me and then up at my forehead,
concern marking his face.
	"What?" I asked, hand flying to my head. There was
a bandage and I remembered the blood from the night
before.  "Mulder, I'm fine. I feel fine.  I do have a slight
head ache, but save that, I'm fine."
	He stayed silent and I looked at him, exasperated. 
He cocked his head, mock innocence in his eyes.  
	"Mulder.  Tell me what you're thinking. For once."
	"I want to know why you suddenly brought up
Bambi."
	"I was just thinking."
	"Just thinking."
	"Yes."
	"Just...thinking about metal cockroaches and
Bambi?"
	"And you."
	"And me.  Why me?"
	'Because I love you, you godamn fool!' I screamed
in my head, shaking my head at the same time.  I felt like a
fool; I looked like an insane person.
	"Just thinking."
	Mulder sighed and it was his turn to look
exasperated. I couldn't blame him, really.  I didn't want to
say what I was thinking about. I was just thinking.  About
Bambi and Mulder.  
	"Scully--"  Mulder began, but I cut him off.
	"Do you want to know what I was thinking about,
Mulder?"
	"Yes," he said without hesitation.
	"You really want to know what I've been
thinking?"	
	"I said yes."
	"I know."
	I was silent, and Mulder looked at me, eyes locked
with my own.  His hand found my own and gave it a small
squeeze.
	"You can leave this place today, after they do their
check on you," he offered, and I smiled slightly at him.
	"I'm not trying to get out, Mulder."
	"I know."


	Maplewood
	Milford, NH
	
	Mr. Hodgson had driven his silvery-grey Volvo to
bring me home from the hospital.  Mulder insisted on
seating in the back with me.  I frowned at him when he first
offered, but relented.  He looked at me, and I couldn't
refuse him. We sat, listening to the soft classical music
pouring from the speakers, watching the passing scenery.
	"Where are you going to live when you're retired,
Scully?" Mulder asked softly.  I saw Mr. Hodgson look in
the rear view mirror, a smile playing on his face.
	"I don't know, Mulder.  Maybe I won't retire."
	"If you don't retire, I won't be able to retire.  Can
you see us at seventy and seventy two, running around after
aliens?"
	"Running?  More like electric wheel chairing."
	Mulder laughed.  Mr. Hodgson shook his head,
obviously finding the comment amusing but polite enough
not to join in the conversation.
	"Seriously.  Where do you see yourself in ten
years?"
	Oh, no.  A hard, deep question.  I don't know,
Mulder. Maybe with you. Maybe with someone else. Maybe
dead. I haven't thought about it.  A million answers flowed
through my head.  
	"That's a very deep question, Mulder," I hedged,
wondering if he expected me to answer seriously.
	"I know."
	Damn.  
	"Hopefully not with grey hair," I joked lamely, and
Mulder smiled, glancing out the window and then back at
me.
	'You know I wanted a serious answer, Scully,' his
eyes told me. I knew.  I didn't want to answer, Mulder.  I
know that he knows.  'I'm not going to ask if you said what
I think you said because I know it's what you said.'  My
words from years before came back to me.
	We were silent for the rest of the drive.  

	At six we sat around the round oak dining table. 
Mr. Hodgson had invited a sweet old lady for dinner.  Her
name was Helen, and she had cooked us an amazing meal. 
Creamy, wonderful mashed potatoes--from real potatoes--
with tender, juicy steak, and sweet peas.  I leaned back in
my chair, my glass of wine still rather full, looking around at
my three companions.  Mulder had been silent through most
of the meal, leaving me to talk to Mr. Hodgson and Helen. 
After a while it was they who did the most talking.  I was
content to listen to their conversation; they talked about
anything from when the best time to go swimming was to
the price of a dozen ears of corn to how much a dozen
actually was, in corn.  On a few occasions their topic was
extremely odd, almost laughable, and during those times I
would glance at Mulder, expecting to share a glance, but he
remained shut off to her and to Mr. Hodgson and Helen. 
He barely ate his food, though he remarked at how delicious
it was.  His wine glass had been filled three times.
	He was sulking.  'About what?'  He seemed to be
thinking deeply about something.  I wondered if it was our
brief conversation in the car.
	"Well, Gary, Fox, Dana, I really must be going.  I
have cats to feed, you know!  Gary, I trust you to clean
these dishes, you know!  It was very nice to meet you,
Dana," she said, then paused slightly, almost unnoticeably,
before saying, "and Fox.  Good night."
	"It was nice to meet you, too, Helen," I said,
standing to shake her hand. Mulder smiled up at her briefly.
	"Good night, Gary," she said, and linked her arm
through my own. "Walk me out," she commanded in a
wonderfully nice way only the elder people in our society
have a way of doing.
	"That man, Fox, is he your lover?" she asked, once
we were out of eat-shot.
	"Who, Mulder?  No, we're just friends.  Partners at
work, actually." It hurt to say it, but it was true.  Just friends.
	"Well, I certainly am glad I didn't ask that back at
the table.  I was only asking because he seems to be sulking,
and you were staring at him the entire time."
	"I was?" I asked, feeling my cheeks grow warm. 
'God, was I that noticeable?'
	"Did you fight?"
	"No, not exactly.  He asked me a question and I
didn't respond the way he wanted." I gave a small laugh. "It
sound very petty, but he's really not.  It's really not.  That
way."
	"I believe you. Well, I hope to see you again, Dana,
dear.  Get Gary to invite me over, will you?" she asked with
a grin, and I nodded, smiling myself.  She left, waving, and I
waved back before going back to the men.
	"Would you like me to do the dishes?" I asked Mr.
Hodgson, who shook his head furiously, glancing at Mulder,
who was working on his fourth glass of wine.  'Fifth or
sixth,' a voice in the back of my head argued. 
	"Why don't you and Mulder go into the other room? 
I think you need to talk," Mr. Hodgson said, getting up and
talking in a low voice to me.
	"Was he rude to you?" I asked, praying for a
negative answer.
	"No.  Just quiet.  He's upset about something, Dana. 
Talk to him."
	I nodded and walked over to where Mulder sat,
slouched low in his chair.
	"Come outside with me, Mulder?" I asked softly,
touching his arm.  He looked at me with bloodshot eyes,
and nodded slowly.
	He stood, swayed slightly, and I reached my hand
out to his arm.  He grabbed at my hand roughly, took it in
his own, and held it.  We walked outside.

Maplewood Monster (2/2) X/MSR

"Mulder, you okay?" I asked gently, knowing he wasn't but
not knowing what else to ask.
	"No," he answered shortly.  His answer surprised
me; I was used to responses much like my own. 'I'm fine.'
'Nothing's wrong.'
	"Is this about your question in the car?" I asked,
leading him to a wooden bench situated beneath a large tree
in front of the house. We sat, close, almost too close.  He
looked down at me and spoke. The wine on his breath
wasn't unpleasant; it was almost sweet.
	"Yes...no...sort of?  Scully, I...I picked the wrong
time to ask you a question like that. I'm sorry."
	"Is that why--" 
	"No," came his answer, before I could question.
	"Then wh--"
	"Because," he interrupted again. "Because I know
what your answer will be." He paused, sighing slightly, then
continued. "You're going to say something like, in ten years
I'll be happily married with two adopted kids living as far
away from you as possible."
	I wanted to go out on a limb. I wanted to take a
chance and say what I wanted to say.  I had no way of
knowing what he was going to say in response. I almost
didn't say anything.
	"How..." I trailed off, then began again.  "If I were
ever to be happily married, Mulder, you would most
certainly not be as far away from me as possible.  You
wouldn't be a very good father that way."
	There, I'd said it.  I watched Mulder's face in the
patchy light coming from the window behind us as he
processed the information.
	"Scully, I--"
	He was cut off by a loud rustle in the bushed across
the gravel driveway that extended toward the road from the
pavement.  Mulder stood, again swaying slightly, removing
his gun from its holster.  I pointed my own gun in the
direction of the noise, and we watched the bushed move in
the half darkness.
	"What the hell is that, Scully?" Mulder asked.  He
took three steps forward, closer to the swaying shrubs, and
I followed.
	"How the hell should I know?"
	A blue-ish white...thing...emerged from the bushed
before us.  It had yellow, glowing eyes and a mouth ringed
with ghastly, dripping teeth. It seemed to be slightly
glowing, and it raised its arm, seemingly motioning for us to
follow it.
	"Come on, Scully," Mulder said, putting his gun
back in its holster.
	"This isn't a good idea."
	"We have our guns and training to back us up."
	He walked in the direction the thing was moving,
following at a distance large enough so the thing, if it
moved as slowly as it was now, decided to attack he could
run. I followed.  
	The thing was like a dog, always looking back with
its awful yellow eyes to see if we were following.  We
walked through a dry field, following the blue-ish white
blob.  We ended up down near the river.  The creek that ran
through Mr. Hodgson's land turned into a fast paced river at
the edge of his property, and I shuddered, remembering
what the monster--if it had been the monster--had done to
me.  
	"Mulder, what if it plans to hit us over the head and
throw us into the river?" I asked, ready to run back up to
the safety of the house.
	"I don't think it wants to hurt us," Mulder said,
watching the thing.  It was at the edge of the river, bending
down, imploring with its arm and eyes for us to join it.
	"Here goes nothing," Mulder claimed, carefully
edging his way down the steep bank.
	"Here goes everything," I amended, following him.
	When Mulder reached the water, the thing
disappeared.
	"Where'd it go?" I asked, reaching Mulder seconds
later.
	"I don't know, but look. Can you see it?" 
	Mulder was pointing down. I looked, and could
barely make out the shape of some sort of animal.
	"Is it alive?" I asked, and felt Mulder's eyes on me.
	"Mulder, I can't see.  We don't have flashlights. 
That thing was glowing enough to let off light, and now I
have no idea how to get back.  We're stuck here, Mulder."
	"Scully.  Calm down a second.  I think it is alive."
	"How do you know?"	
	"Listen."
	I shut my mouth, listening to everything around us. 
Then, I heard it.  A faint moaning sound, coming from the
body at my feet.
	"God, Mulder, it is alive.  What is it?  A dog?"
	"I don't think it's a dog."
	"Well, what do we do?"
	"Why don't I stay here with it, and you begin to walk
back to the house. I think that thing, whatever it was, will
help you out.  Get a flashlight from Mr. Hodgson, tell him
we found a clue.  Then get the hell back down here."
	"Will you be all right?"	
	"Yeah."
	I reached out for his hand, found it after an
embarrassingly clumsy first try, and squeezed it.  His hand
brushed my cheek, and I left.  I climbed up the steep bank,
cursing the dirt that was ruining my clothes.  I heard Mulder
say something behind me.
	"What, Mulder?" I asked, turning to him when I was
atop the bank.
	"Good luck."
	"Thanks."
	I began the trek back to the house.  The thing did,
indeed, reappear, and I followed it, using its light as a guide. 
I thought long and hard for someway to explain its presence
scientifically, but I could not.  I gave up thinking about that
and turned my thoughts to Mulder.  Ah, Mulder.  So sullen
at dinner.  The water was boiling in our pot, the fire was
raging.  Something was going to happen.  Something good,
and I was looking forward to it.  The touches we'd
exchanged--the squeezing of hands, the brushing of cheeks--
were not new, but the frequency of them was.  We'd moved
up--or down--another level. I smiled, despite my unreal
situation, and picked up my pace.
	"Mr. Hodgson?" I called when I reached the interior
of the house.  The thing had disappeared when I'd reached
the light of the house, and I'd hurried inside, frightened by
the thought of the thing being behind me.  
	"Mr. Hodgson?" I called again, searching the rooms
for him. The lights were all on, and the dishes were
seemingly untouched.  I opened the door that separated the
kitchen/dining room from the living room and almost threw
up.
	Mr. Hodgson--or what was left of him--
was...covering the oriental carpet.  If I hadn't known he was
the only one in the house I wouldn't have been able to
identify him.  His skull crushed, his eyes were pulled out of
their sockets, his chest had been torn open and his heart
was...where was his heart?  I couldn't find his heart.  His
abdomen had almost been ripped apart, and his entrails were
strewn around the room.  His feet were the only intact part
of his body.
	I shook my head, trying to pull myself away from
the horrible sight. I was finally able to, and began to search
for a flashlight.  After I found one, I debated calling the
paramedics, then decided against it.  They couldn't do
anything, and they would only prevent me from getting to
Mulder.
	Taking the flashlight, bug spray, and a blanket with
me, I began to run toward the river.  The thing was
immediately back, and I shut off the flashlight, clinging
tightly to all the items I carried.  The thing moved at the
same speed I was going, and I...we...reached Mulder in less
than five minutes.
	"Mulder?" I called.
	"Scully!" he answered.
	I stood at the top of the bank, catching my breath,
then scurried down the small hill.  The thing had
disappeared and I clicked on the flashlight.
	"Mr. Hodgson is dead," I said, and Mulder turned to
me. 
	"What happened?"
	"I don't know. I came back and he was...strewn...all
over the living room."
	"Strewn?"
	"I don't want to go into details.  I brought bug spray,
Mulder, put some on."
	We applied the bug spray and then looked down at
the body.
	"Mulder, is it me or does that thing have blue fur?"
	"Blue fur."
	"All right, what is it?"
	"I have no idea, but it doesn't look very healthy. 
You brought a blanket, didn't you?"
	"Course."
	"All right, we'll wrap it in the blanket with its head
sticking out--it's about the size of a small child--and carry it
back up to the house.  Once there, we get into the car
and...never mind.  Once there, we go inside and sit in the
kitchen, backs against the stove, watching for whatever it is
that killed Mr. Hodgson.  We'll also try to help out this poor
guy."
	I just smiled at him, glad he'd figured something out
while he'd been sitting there.
	
	We arrived at the house fifteen minutes later; the
thing had appeared to aid us in our venture once more. 
Sitting in the kitchen, backs to the stove, we unwrapped the
little blue, furry thing.
	"We need more blankets, Mulder," I said, and he
nodded.
	"We'll go together."
	We re-wrapped the thing and took it with us up the
stairs to Mulder's bedroom.  The mess in the living room
was hard to get around, but we managed by walking along
the extreme edges of the room.  Mulder shuddered visibly at
the sight.
	"We might be safer here, Mulder," I said, looking
around the large room.
	He nodded in agreement, and we settled down on
the bed, backs to the headboard.  I'd turned on all the lights,
and Mulder helped me settle the furry thing on the end of
the bed.
	"I don't know what to do about it, Mulder," I
admitted.
	"Maybe we should just let it be."
	I didn't respond, just watched the thing as its chest
rose and fell evenly.
	"It appears to be sleeping, Mulder."
	"It would have awoken if it were just sleeping."
	"If it were human."
	Mulder and I sat in silence, side by side, close, again,
almost too close.
	"We never finished that conversation, Scully. Tell
me I wasn't drunk."
	"You were drunk, but your memory is probably the
same as my own."
	"In that case I'm pretty content."
	'Pretty content?' I thought. 'I practically told the guy
I wanted to marry him and all he is is 'pretty content'?'
	"You were going to say something."
	"I was?"
	"You said, Scully, I...then we heard the rustle."
	"I was going to say...well, it doesn't seem right
now."
	"Hmm?"
	"Before, it seemed the right thing to say. Now, it
seems completely wrong."
	"What would you think about having children with
me, Mulder?"
	"You mean adoption."
	Did he have to remind me so bluntly?  I think I truly
bristled, because Mulder was immediately apologizing.
	"I'm sorry, Scully, I didn't think...I'm sorry...I--"
	"Mulder. It's okay.  Just answer the question."
	"I think...I think I'd be pretty upset that they weren't
truly ours because I'd love to see another little Scully
running around."
	"I wonder if Eddie Van Blundht could change into
women, too," I mused out loud, and Mulder looked down at
me.
	"Where did that come from?"	
	"Another Scully running around. I wonder if he
could change into me.  Never mind.  Anyway."
	I was embarrassed. I wondered if Mulder could
sense it.  I didn't know what to tell him or what to think or
even what to feel.  I closed my eyes and sighed, then looked
up at Mulder.
	"Scully, I--"
	He was interrupted by the creature at the foot of the
bed.  It sighed, and rolled over, stretching its furry, blue
arms over its head.  It fell off the bed with a thump, and I
sat up, startled.  
	"Mulder, is it--"
	I almost bit off my tongue when the creature stood
up to its full height of about three feet and looked first at
me, then at Mulder, with it's large black eyes.
	"Hello," it said sullenly, as if it was extremely sad
about something.
	"Hello," Mulder replied slowly, and I opened my
mouth to say the same, but all I managed was a "Hehhh."
	"My name is Joe.  I'm commonly known as the
Maplewood Crying Monster.  My job is to cheer up children
who come to visit this house.  I-I don't have any children to
play with anymore!" Joe cried, beginning to spout tears
from his eyes.
	"Don't cry!" I finally said.
	"Why-why not?" Joe asked, and I looked to Mulder.
	"Because Mulder wants to be your friend."
	"He does?"
	"I do?"
	"Yes.  Joe, what do you know about the blue-ish
white mon-thing that's been helping us?"
	"Oh...you must mean Jerri. She's quite nice, once
you get to know her.  She helps out humans to aid her
friends.  That's why she was showing you how to get to me. 
I was so tired I fell asleep by the river, and with that
creature on the loose she knew I was going to be eaten."
	"Creature?"
	"Oh yes, I thought you knew. I mean, after what
happened to you."
	"You know the creature who hurt Scully?" Mulder
asked, and Joe nodded slowly.
	"It's the dog."
	"Frisbee?"
	"Yes.  The man, the dead one downstairs, switched
his dog to a new diet recently, right before his other dog
was killed.  Jerri was trying to help the other dog, Amanda,
when the man saw her.  He thought Jerri was trying to kill
the dog, when really the dog was already dead.  Jerri was
yelping to get the dog to realize it was still able to live. It
didn't work."
	"When I was attacked, I felt cold, slippery arms.
Was that the dog?"
	"That was Jerri, again, trying to help. The dog was
attacking Jerri at the same time it was attacking you, so
Jerri was pushed against you.  That's how you ended up in
the water."
	"But...the dog hit me on the head with something?"
	"Have you looked closely at the wound?  Didn't it
resemble dog-bite marks?"
	"The doctor said something about that," Mulder told
me, looking slightly apologetic.
	"Mulder, the dog is downstairs right now," I said,
panic rising in my voice.
	"Joe, what can we do?"
	"One of us has to go down there and get the dog to
consume this," the small creature said, producing a small
vile filled with red liquid.  
	"I'll do it," I offered. 
	"No, Scully," Mulder said.  "Let me."
	"No, Mulder. I am going to do this.  I'll be right
back."
	"No, no, no," said Joe.
	"Oh, don't tell me you want to do this," I said,
setting my jaw.
	"No, I have no desire. Never say I'll be right back."
	"Right."
	"Good luck, Scully," Mulder said. Another hand
squeeze. I smiled at the two of them and walked out into
the hall, then down the stairs.  At the bottom was the dog.
	I pulled out my gun and pointed it at the dog.  It
whimpered, seemingly harmless.  Fear suddenly raced
through my veins, and my whole body sort of twitched.  I
didn't go back.  Instead, I fired a shot next to the dog.  It
whimpered again, and ran out of the hall toward the living
room.
	"I'm all right!" I called back to Mulder, who'd
appeared at the top of the stairs.  I followed the dog, and
found it eating its former master.  It was oblivious to me as
I crept toward it, vile in one hand, gun in the other.  It had
started at the bottom of one of the torn up legs and was
working its way to the stomach.  I carefully poured the
liquid right where the dog was about to eat, then slowly
stepped back to the doorway.  I watched the dog chew
threw the area where I'd poured the liquid, and crossed my
fingers.  The dog stopped eating suddenly, stiffened, fell
over, then began to convulse.   Before I had time to react, it
was on its feet, whimpering and sniffing its former master. 
It looked at me, wagged its tail, and whimpered again.  
	A lightening bolt lit the sky outside the window, the
first sign of the thunder storm that had been predicted. 
Seconds later, thunder boomed and the lights fzzzed out. 
The blue-ish white monster--Jerri--appeared and I stood
speechless in the doorway as she began to clean up Mr.
Hodgson's remains.  She wasn't cleaning, though. It was
almost as if she was putting him back together.  Another
flash of lightening followed by the crackling thunder, and I
heard a tree outside fall.  I ran to the foot of the stairs and
called Mulder's name.  He and Joe ran down the stairs and
we started back to the living room.  
	"It's been nice knowing you!" Joe cried, and Jerri
appeared beside him.  Another lightening bolt lit the sky,
and before the thunder followed, Jerri and Joe had gone. 
Mulder and I stood in the hall, suddenly needing each other
very much. I pulled him close to me and we hugged.  His
grasp on me was tight, almost too tight, and I pulled away
some.  He leaned down, and I watched as his mouth grew
closer and closer to my own.  We kissed.  Another
lightening flash followed by another thunder clap.
	Mr. Hodgson appeared in the doorway to his room,
laughing.
	"I knew that would happen!" he cried.
	I looked up at Mulder and shrugged.
	"I am way beyond rationality here, Mulder."
	I kissed him again.
	Lightening, followed by thunder.