~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Four
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Light filtered through the dark curtains he had nailed over 
the windows.  From his bed, Pittsfield coughed and braced 
himself for the resulting pain.  When the fit passed and he 
could breathe again, he squinted at the Advent calendar he 
had tacked to the wall.  It read five days until Christmas.

He coughed again and the girl came running.  "Get me my 
drops," he said hoarsely.  "Hurry now."

She flew out of the room and returned clutching the small 
bottle.  Still hacking, he downed the medicine while the girl 
knelt in prayer.  The drops did their quick work and he 
relaxed, breathing hard, against the pillows.

"Thank you, child," he said, and she got to her feet.  

Concern welled in her wide blue eyes.  "Tell me again," she 
said.  "Tell me again when the angel comes."

He coughed lightly.  "You know."

She turned and looked at the Advent calendar.  At the top, at 
the very last door, a glittery white angel surveyed the 
Christmas scene below.  Twenty flaps had already been opened.  
"Five more days," she counted.

"Four now."  He nudged her.  "Go ahead and open it."

She bit her lip and looked at the floor.  "I wish I could be 
the one.  I wish I could be the one to make you well."

"Pride is a sin, girl.  You know your place."

She shivered, chastened.  "Yes, sir."

"Now go do as I asked."

She shuffled over to the calendar, where she opened the flap 
for December 21.  Behind the door lay a tiny chocolate 
wrapped in red foil.  She took it out and brought it to him 
in her palm.

"It's for you," he reminded her, but she shook her head.

"I want to save it for the angel."

Tired, he smiled at her, and stretched out a heavy hand to 
her head.  She bowed under his weight.  "That's my good 
girl."  

She came to the bed and laid her cheek against his stomach.  
He stroked her hair, all the time thinking about the other.  
Did she feel him close?  Did she know he was coming?

He smiled.  In four days she would fulfill her destiny at 
last.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Grenier was always easier to deal with when he was the one 
driving, so Mulder took shotgun without any quarrel.  He 
chewed his thumbnail and watched the passing gray scenery as 
Grenier waxed on about their strategy for interviewing 
possible witnesses.  

Mulder did not think of his interrogation questions in 
advance; it was easier to catch someone off guard if you were 
shooting from the hip.  Besides, he spent most of his time 
studying the person's face rather than listening to what they 
were saying.

"...Scully's okay?"

Her name brought him out of his fog, and Mulder shifted in 
his seat.  "What?"

"This morning, at breakfast.  I just wanted to know if 
Scully's okay."

"Yeah," Mulder sighed.  He picked up the end of his tie and 
studied it.  "Me too."

Grenier looked at him.  "You're worried she's sick?"

How to even explain, Mulder thought.  He and Scully did not 
get sick like other people.  They didn't get colds or the flu 
or migraine headaches.  No, they got incurable tumors and 
alien viruses. 

"I'm sure she's fine," Mulder said, trying out the words.  
Scully was better at the lie than he was.  Hell, maybe she 
even believed it.

"You guys have been together a long time now."

It was Mulder's turn to look at Grenier.  "So?"

"Well, don't you think it might be time to fish or cut bait?"

"I don't think Scully would want me commenting on any analogy 
that featured her as a fish."

"You know what I mean."

Mulder shook his head.  "It doesn't matter to me, and I don't 
think she needs the piece of paper either."

Grenier snorted.  "They all want the piece of paper, Mulder."

"Oh, yeah?  You've got a kid with Amelia, and I don't see you 
with any official documentation."

"Hey, we were married once.  That's got to count for 
something, right?"  He paused and then shrugged.  "I asked.  
She turned me down."

"Really?"

"So I guess maybe you're right," Grenier said as he prepared 
to parallel park.  "Maybe they don't all need the paper."

Mulder avoided the slush by the side of the road as he 
stepped out of the car.  "And Penelope?" he couldn't resist 
asking.

The corner of Grenier's mouth twitched.  "She's too young to 
be settling down."

"Ah.  I see.  And Amelia was how old when you married her?"

"Let's start with the CVS across from where Pittsfield put 
the camera," Grenier replied, effectively shutting down that 
subject.

They crossed the brown slush-filled street and ducked in out 
of the wind.  CVS was doing a brisk business for so early on 
a Friday morning.  Canned strains of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed 
Reindeer" piped in overhead as shoppers in heavy winter coats 
elbowed each other for a place in line.  The place smelled 
like cheap chocolate candy and wet wool.

Six checkers busily ran up purchases as Grenier and Mulder 
surveyed the scene.  "Which one you want to start with?" 
Grenier asked.

Mulder pointed at the girl working the register closest to 
the glass front door.  "Whoever was working that spot 
yesterday afternoon," he said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Scully sat with her mug of tea in front of the computer that 
housed the FBI's database of missing children.  The enormity 
of her task coupled with the lack of sleep had started a dull 
ache right behind her eyes.  Though she never would have 
admitted it to Mulder, she was just as happy to have peace 
and quiet and the opportunity to sit down.

She began by entering the cleaned-up still photo they had 
captured of the little girl from the webcam.  Start with 
Oregon, she reasoned, since that was where Pittsfield had 
disappeared the first time.

Scully entered the search criteria and then had the computer 
match the girl's face against the hundreds of photos of 
missing little girls over the past several years.  As the 
computer began combing the database, Scully's cell phone 
rang.  She glanced at the ID and saw it read, "Margaret 
Scully."

"Hi, Mom," she said.

"Dana, honey, it's Mom," answered her mother, and Scully 
rubbed her eyes with one hand.

"Yes, Mom.  How are you?"

"I'm on my way to the airport now.  Are you sure you won't 
reconsider coming out for Christmas?  Even just for a few 
days?"

"I'm sure."

There was a pause on the other end, and Scully could hear her 
mother wrestling with a suitcase.  "You know, of course, that 
Mulder would be welcome too.  If he could tear himself away 
from work long enough."

Tolerated, maybe.  Welcome was stretching it a bit.  "I 
know," Scully sighed.  "But we're staying here this year.  
I'll see you at New Year's, okay?  We'll... we'll drink 
champagne and watch the ball drop."

"I still don't understand what made you change your mind.  
You've had the ticket for months, and it's wasted money now."

Four weeks ago, Scully had been going to California as usual.  
Then she had woken up two mornings in a row with a nosebleed 
and decided to change her plans.

"It's my money to waste," Scully returned.  The computer 
beeped and Scully swiveled in her seat to look at the screen.  
"Look, Mom, I've got to go.  I will call you back later, 
okay?  Have a safe trip."  She clicked off before her mother 
could prolong the conversation.

No match found, the computer read.

"Guess we'll try a more local search," Scully said to the 
empty room.  The unnamed little girl stared back at her from 
the screen.  "Someone wants you back," Scully told her.  "We 
just have to figure out who it is."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sullen, dishwater blonde popped the top on a diet Coke 
and leaned against a giant box of Kleenex cartons.  The tag 
on her CVS vest read, "Laine." "Is this going to take long?" 
she asked.  "I only get one break besides lunch."

"That depends on you," Grenier said.  "We understand from 
your supervisor that you were working the register closest to 
the door yesterday afternoon."

"So?"

Mulder showed her a couple of photos of Pittsfield and some 
black and white images they had captured from the webcam 
feed. "Did you see this man or this little girl yesterday?  
Inside or outside the store -- it doesn't matter -- we just 
want to know if you saw them."

Laine gave the pictures a cursory glance.  "We must have had 
a million people in here yesterday."

"But were these two of them?" Mulder asked again. "Take one 
more look."

"The hell if I know.  It's the Christmas rush.  We're mobbed 
as soon as we open, and it doesn't stop until closing.  I 
barely get time to scratch my ass."

"So you're saying you never saw these two people," Grenier 
pressed.  

Laine scowled.  "I am saying it wouldn't matter if a yellow 
bus full of clowns pulled up outside and they all got out to 
turn cartwheels.  My job is to make sure the signatures match 
the credit cards, not the faces."  She handed them back the 
photos.  "Can I go now?

"Yeah, you can go," Mulder said.

The storeroom door slammed with her exit, and Grenier turned.  
"That was pleasant.  Do you suppose they're all so genial?"

"Only one way to find out," Mulder replied with a sigh.  He 
opened the door and motioned to the front.  "Next!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was after two by the time Scully looked up from her 
computer screen again, and this time the reason for her 
distraction was Mulder.  He carried a large paper sack and 
the air of a man who had not met with success.  

"No luck?" she asked as he dragged over a chair.

"Grenier and I must have talked to fifty different people up 
and down the Elliot Street.  Most swear they didn't see 
Pittsfield or the girl.  Some say "maybe" they saw him, but 
they can't remember any details."

"I wish I could say I've had better luck."

Mulder pulled out a sandwich from his bag.  "Nothing?"

"I've tried every search I can think of, Mulder.  If this 
girl is in the system anywhere, I can't find her."

"I got you tuna salad," he said, handing her a sandwich 
wrapped in paper.  

"Thank god.  I'm starved."

He looked up, brightening.  "Yeah?"

She took a big bite as he hauled out the bottled water.  He 
opened them while she rooted around in her waxed paper.  
"Pickle?" she said around a mouthful of tuna.

He made a face.  "Here, take both of them."

She smiled as he flung them her way.  "And here Amelia was 
just telling me how you would eat anything.  I guess you must 
not have mentioned your little pickle phobia to her."

"It's not a phobia.  I believe am the sensible one here.  I 
mean, look at those things.  They are green and slimy and 
they smell bad."

She hid a smile.  "That has never stopped you before.

He nudged her and she nudged back, but after that she focused 
all her attention on eating.  

Mulder chewed thoughtfully and looked at the computer screen.  
"If he's after Natalie, maybe he took this one really young 
too.  The picture wouldn't necessarily match then."

"I thought of that.  The computer takes measurements of the 
features and calculates the distance between them.  It's not 
an exact science, but you can take the ratios and use them as 
individual markers.  As you age, the absolute distance of 
your features changes, but the ratios remain roughly the 
same."

He sat back in his seat and shook his head.  "Gary Pittsfield 
may be searching for Jesus Christ, but he himself seems to 
have the ability to play God.  He makes one girl vanish and 
another appear from nowhere."

"She belongs to someone, Mulder.  I think maybe when we 
figure out what happened to Lily, we might have a better idea 
of how he got the second girl."

"If she's the second," Mulder said quietly.

"You think there are more?"

"Only Peter Pan stayed a child forever, Scully, and 
Pittsfield likes them young."

His phone rang and he fished it out while Scully wiped her 
mouth.  "Mulder," he said.  He lurched forward in his seat.  
"Slow down.  Slow down.  Who's missing?  Okay, we're on our 
way.  Lock all the doors and call the police."

"What?" Scully asked, already grabbing her coat.

"Amelia let her dog out in the backyard and now it's 
missing."

"Who would want the dog?"

"I don't know."  Mulder's mouth set in a grim line.  "Maybe 
it's a dress rehearsal."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amelia was waiting for them by the front door.  "I finally 
reached Adam," she said as she let them inside.  "He's on his 
way."

"Tell us exactly what happened," Mulder said, stamping snow 
from his shoes as they crowded in the narrow front hall.  
Natalie clung to her mother's leg.

"I let Gypsy out into the back yard while I finished cleaning 
up from lunch, the same as I always do.  It's fenced in and 
she likes to run around out there for a while, and then I let 
her back in when she barks at the door."  As she talked, she 
led them back into the kitchen and pointed out the window 
over the sink.  "I saw her sniffing around the pine trees 
while I was loading the dishwasher, but then when I stood up 
again, she was gone."

"You mean you couldn't see her?" Scully asked.

"I can't explain it.  I looked out the window and I knew she 
was gone.  I went outside and yelled for her to come, but she 
wasn't there."  Amelia opened the back door to show them.  "I 
found the gate unlocked and paw prints down the driveway."

"Footprints too?" Mulder asked, stepping out onto the back 
porch and surveying the scene.

"No.  Not in the yard."  Amelia hugged herself.  "Just the 
dog prints."

Mulder went down the back steps to investigate, and Scully 
turned to Amelia.  "How long from the time you let her out 
until the time you noticed her missing?"

"Ten minutes?  About that."  She shivered.  "It's just like 
what happened to Lily.  I looked away for just a second..."

"Hello?" Grenier called from the front of the house.  
"Amelia?"

"Back here, Adam!"

He swept in, black coat flapping with a fresh burst of 
outside air.  "Still nothing?" he demanded as he hoisted 
Natalie into his arms.

"Mulder's out looking around now," Amelia explained.  "Adam, 
this makes no sense.  Why would he take Gypsy?"

"We don't know he did take her," Grenier replied as Natalie 
played with his tie.

"Some madman threatens to take our daughter, and then our dog 
disappears?  I don't think this is just coincidence, Adam."

"She's gotten out before," Grenier replied.  "And remember 
how she ended up here in the first place."

Scully raised her eyebrows in question, and Amelia took a 
deep breath.  "She was a stray," Amelia said.  "She wandered 
in off the street, begging, and that's why we named her 
'Gypsy.'  Adam, she hasn't gotten out since we put the new 
latch on the gate."

"No," Grenier admitted.  "But there's always a first time.  
Besides, you have to admit it's strange.  Why would 
Pittsfield want to take Gypsy?  He's never done this sort of 
thing before."

"Everything's different this time," Mulder said, stepping 
into the kitchen again.  "He's doing everything he can to let 
us know he's coming.  The question is why."

"Mulder, what did you find outside?" Scully asked.

Natalie smiled at Mulder and tried to direct his attention 
out the window.  "Car," she said.

"Plenty of paw prints, but not much else.  The latch had been 
opened -- apparently from inside because you'd need a hook or 
something to reach over the fence from the driveway.  It 
looks like Gypsy ran down the driveway towards the street, 
but I lose her prints in the slush."

"Car," Natalie said again, wriggling to get down.  "Mulder, 
car."

"Not now, Natalie," her father said.  He spoke over her head 
to Amelia.  "We'll go look for Gypsy, okay?  Maybe the latch 
was loose and she saw her escape and took it."

"The latch wasn't loose."

"We'll find her," Grenier said.

"Car, car, car!"  Natalie wiggled to the floor and ran to 
Mulder.  "Car, Mulder," she said, reaching up for his hand.

He patted her head.  "I can't right now," he said.  "I have 
to go look for your dog, and then we can play later."

"Doggie?"  Natalie went and pressed her small nose against 
the glass door to the backyard.  "Dooooogie," she called, but 
Gypsy didn't come.

"I can't stay here," Amelia said.  "Not like this."

"You can stay with me," Grenier answered.  "As long as you 
like."

Scully wandered over to where Natalie was banging her small 
palm against the cold glass.  "Hi," she said.

Natalie sighed and cast a baleful look at Mulder, who was 
discussing dog-catching strategies with Grenier.  "Mulder 
car," she explained to Scully sadly.  

"That's her new game," Amelia said, joining them.  "She likes 
to watch the cars go by outside."

"Car," Natalie agreed as she pointed towards the front of the 
house where the street was.  

"Really," Scully said, following her gaze.  "Were you looking 
at cars this morning?"

"God, yes.  It's trash day.  Natalie never misses a pickup."

"Okay, and what else did you see?"

Amelia's eyes widened.  "You think he drove by?"

"Could be.  Worth a shot, in any case."

"Okay..."  Amelia started walking back through the house with 
Natalie and Scully on her heels.  "We were sitting on the 
couch, watching the traffic.  The garbage man came at 11.  
There was an oil delivery next door shortly after that.  God, 
I don't know.  The cars were all the same, you know?"

"Car!" Natalie clambered up to watch the window.

"What's going on?" Mulder materialized in the room with 
Grenier just behind him.

"Amelia and Natalie were watching the front of the house this 
morning," Scully replied.  "It's possible they could have 
seen something."

Natalie chortled with delight to have all four adults crowded 
behind her looking out the window.  "One car," she said.  
"Two car."

"A lot of SUVs," Amelia said, putting her hand to her eyes as 
she tried to think.  "Dark colored, mostly.  A dirty white 
van.  I remember thinking it needed cleaning.  Oh, and a VW 
bus."

"Bus!" Natalie agreed, making engine noises.

"It was yellow," said Amelia, "and Natalie's right.  The 
muffler was off.  It made a ton of noise."

"Even if he did drive by," Grenier said, "how can we know who 
was driving?  You can't see faces from here."

"Bus, bus, bus..."  Natalie patted the window.

"Wait a second," Mulder said.  "A yellow, VW bus?  When did 
it go past?"

"Right before lunch.  Why?"

"That's him," Mulder said.  Off Grenier's puzzled look, 
Mulder explained.  "That girl from CVS, the one who could see 
the street -- she said she wouldn't have noticed if a bunch 
of clowns came out of a yellow bus and turned cartwheels, 
remember?"

"She saw him.  God damn."

They ran out the door with Natalie still waving from the 
window.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

End chapter four.  Continued in chapter five.

Thanks muchly to Amanda for proofing!  Any remaining mistakes 
are mine alone.

Feedback is always welcome at syn_tax6@yahoo.com

Happy new year, everyone! _