Keep Sweet - Part Three Author: Kelli Sutton Email: willingtoride@gmail.com Feedback: Yes please! Distribution: Anywhere is fine just let me know! Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter) Classification: Case File, MSR Spoilers: Up to and including "The Unnatural" Summary: There's undercover, and then there's this case. Author's Note: This little (okay, not so little...) ditty came about when I hit a massive brick wall with Chasing Juno. I'm not abandoning that story; I just needed to focus on something else for a little while. I hope you enjoy this new endeavor! Again, I'm flying without a beta - so pardon any silly spelling errors/general flubs. Anyone wanna beta for me and save your brains next time? --- Saturday May 2, 1999 - 4:45pm Vancouver, British Columbia "So, tell me about these sacred panties," Mulder asked, cracking a small smile from across the table. "Fixated, are we Agent Mulder?" Rebecca retorted with a laugh as she kicked her feet up on the table. "Lets just say that, aside from the standard male underwear choices, I have never been one to wear much underneath." "Mulder!" Scully admonished, dropping her pen on the table. Rebecca barked out a laugh, "The sacred temple garments, or sacred underwear, that you're referring to are actually a holdover from the general Mormon faith - though I can't think of any Mormons off the top of my head who wear them on a daily basis. But, in the FLDS it is a pretty standard practice. They're usually a really lightweight light colored material - generally white. For you, Agent Mulder, it wont be all that much different than wearing a short-sleeved undershirt and a pair of boxers - except the boxers come down to about your knees. Agent Scully, the sacred underwear for women is a little bit harder to get used to. Instead of a typical set of bra and panties, it's more like a short-sleeved undershirt with a bra built in and then long knee length shorts," Rebecca explained. "So I wear that instead of a bra and underwear?" Scully asked, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. "Well, in theory yes. But I doubt anyone will notice if you wear your regular underwear underneath - it just might be a little hotter," Rebecca said with a scrunched nose. Mulder let out a small bark of a laugh and Scully glared at him, pursing her lips in annoyance. "So it's going to be all of that, plus a long dress?" Scully asked, turning her attention back to Rebecca, "And what about my hair?" "I'm not sure what the rules are in the community these days, but before I left yes - all women wore dresses that would look more at home on Laura Ingalls than on a modern day woman. I assisted the team with pulling your wardrobes and we made sure to have a small variety of pants and tops for you, Agent Scully. But I would suggest arriving in a dress and sticking with dresses until you get a feel for the community. As far as your hair, aside from saddling you with a wig or hair extensions, there's not really a way around it. I think that, given your - well Anna's - back-story with her illness, short hair is believable, unless you WANT to go for being wigged or having the extensions put in." Scully shook her head, "No, I think we have enough things on our plates without me having to deal with the whole hair thing. If anyone asks I'll just tell them it was a side effect from the treatments." "I think that covers it all then," Rebecca said with a nod. "Wait, I have one more question," Mulder said, closing the notebook in front of him. Scully quirked an eyebrow at him as he continued, "I know you said that there will be questions as to why I haven't taken a second wife, but," he said trailing off, "What if...what if they try to force me to take a second wife, or the prophet assigns a woman to me? What do I do then?" Rebecca nodded and tented her hands together in front of her lips, "That's something we are going to have to figure out if it presents itself. I don't foresee it happening due to the fact that no one involved with this case expects you to be in place for long enough to gain the prophet's trust. But, Wendell Merritt is unpredictable, and as I said before - Walter is worse. Should that situation arise, we will discuss how to move forward. For now, lets just cross that bridge when we come to it." Mulder nodded and tucked his book into his bag while Scully, on the other hand, was quiet and staring down at her notebook. She hadn't even considered the possibility of having to share Mulder with anyone. She was already uncomfortable enough with this whole situation, having to pretend to be married to someone that you actually have feelings for was going to be terrible. It was bad enough the first time around, now things had started to change between them and they were expecting them to just carry on as a happily married couple. She, in all honesty, was more afraid of spending all this time with Mulder and not letting on how she really felt than she was of the assignment in general. It was one thing to fool a community into thinking you loved someone you actually love, it was another to do that while at the same time not letting said person in on the fact that you actually have feelings for them. She sighed and put her head in her hands, huffing out a harsh breath through her nose. "Scully, you okay?" Mulder asked as he pulled his coat off the back of his chair. "I'm fine," she said, standing up and slowly sticking her materials in her tote bag. He pursed his lips at her and nodded, making a mental note to ask her later in private what was going on. It was obvious she wasn't going to let on while Rebecca was in the room. "We gotta go, we're supposed to meet with Powers and the Abbotts at the hotel in an hour," he said, holding the door open for both women. The trio walked to the parking lot together, the grey skies looking like they could let loose at any moment with a deluge of rain. "Agent Mulder?" Rebecca called, stopping him from following Scully into the car. "You both can do this, you're just going to have to be patient with her." He nodded and gave her a small smile before climbing into the car. Scully had slid into the driver's seat, and he hadn't felt the need to protest. --- Saturday May 2, 1999 - 9:45pm Vancouver, British Columbia The carpet in this HoJo was the weirdest shade of tan Scully had ever seen in her life. Depending on the angle she tilted her head it skewed from almost green to a weird smoky brown and then back to the unassuming beige it was most likely intended to be. She shook her head and glanced toward the clock. She'd been out of the shower for almost a half hour and was still wrapped in the small, scratchy towel the hotel had provided. She should really get dressed, or at least put on a robe. She stretched across the space between the bed and the small desk and snagged her well worn, well loved, blue terry cloth robe from the back of the chair. Standing, she dropped the towel and cinched it around her waist seconds before a soft knock came from the door that adjoined her room to Mulder's. She padded in bare feet across the questionably colored carpet and pulled the door open. "Hi," he said softly, leaning against the doorframe, "Just wanted to see if you were okay." "Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, stepping back to let him in the room before closing the door behind him. "Scully," he said, tilting his head to peer at her, "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that dinner didn't go very well." "No, it didn't," she agreed, perching herself on the edge of her bed. The dinner, in a nutshell, had been the most awkward and strained encounter of her life - which was a feat in and of itself considering some of the horrible blind dates she'd been on in her years on this planet. They had met the Abbotts at a fairly nice restaurant, surprising considering the FBI's penchant for saving a dollar wherever and whenever they could. Malachai, the head of the Abbott household, had been welcoming to Mulder, but had not spoken a word to Scully the entire night. Come to think of it, he hadn't addressed any of the women at the table - including both of his wives - the entire meal. The two wives had been friendly, but reserved, speaking only when spoken to and even then only when it was necessary. Rachel, the younger of the two wives and their 'source' for the entire case, had spent most of the evening occupied with the eight-week-old baby girl, Claire, which had come along with them to the dinner. She had answered a few of Scully's questions with clipped answers, seemingly uncomfortable with the entire situation. The only time they'd come out of their shells, so to speak, had been to quiz Scully on her cooking skills before pushing a leaflet of recipes across the table to her. She had thanked them both for their generosity, receiving a look of contempt from Helen and a meek 'You're welcome' from Rachel before a sharp look from Malachai shut them both up for the duration of the meal. After tense goodbyes, and plans to meet early the next morning to begin the drive to Utah, Mulder and Scully had returned to the hotel, one in distinctly better spirits than the other. "I think once we get there and get situated in the community, they'll be a little more forthcoming. Rachel and Helen, I mean," Mulder said, snapping her out of her mental reenactment of the evening and back into the present. "Maybe," Scully said, chewing on her bottom lip. "I just get the impression that neither Malachai or Helen are very approving of this whole venture." "They're not," Mulder said simply. "But it is important to Rachel, which made it important to Malachai, so they're going with it." "Is that something you learned in your secret men's huddle?" She snapped back, eyes cold. "Hey," he said, reaching a hand over to rest it on her bare knee. "I figured that was what upset you. But you know we're not going to be like that, right?" he asked, squeezing her knee gently. With her gaze locked on his hand on her knee she shook her head, "I know," she replied, before moving so his hand slipped from her knee and onto the mattress with a faint thump. "It's just..." she started, chewing her lip again. "Just what?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. She sighed, "I've spent the majority of my professional life, and if I'm being honest educational life as well, being the assertive female and not letting myself be walked all over by the men in my life. You included," she added, casting her eyes in his direction. "Now I'm supposed to forget all that and be the perfect little FLDS house frau while every molecule in my body is screaming in protest. I just don't know how I'm going to manage it, and the more I think about it the more it scares me and I don't like being this vulnerable," she said in a rush, her eyes fixed on the patterned bedspread by his thigh. He reached across and tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. "You are the strongest woman I know," he said, and she fought his hand to look down again, causing him to tighten his grip on her chin a touch. "No, you are - and you know that. There is nothing on this planet that you can't do, in my humble opinion. This is no different. I know how hard this is going to be for you, and I hope you know me well enough, and trust me enough, to know that I'm going to do whatever I can to make this as easy on you as I can." "I know," she said softly, "it's just...hard to wrap my brain around. I'll get there though, hopefully," she said with a small smile. "You will," he said with smile and a decisive nod. "Now, what do you say you put some clothes on and we go have a drink at the bar downstairs? It's been a long couple days, and tomorrow they're gonna start getting even longer - I think we've earned at least one celebratory drink on Uncle Sam's dime." She blew out a breath and nodded, long did not even begin to describe this process that had barely begun. "I could use a martini," she said standing and snagging some clothes out of her opened suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. Mulder fixed his gaze on the bathroom door, listening to the muted sounds of Scully changing and fixing herself up for the less than classy establishment the hotel bar looked to be. He'd never tell her, but he was almost as concerned as she was about the whole assignment. He wasn't sure if he could order her around or be as dominating as the society expected him to be. Squashing her bright and assertive spirit was just not a card he wanted to play, even if it was just pretend. --- Saturday May 2, 1999 - 11:26pm Vancouver, British Columbia They had been at the bar for less than an hour, snacking on bar nuts and drinking - a scotch on the rocks for him and a toxic looking green apple martini for her. "I didn't peg you for the girly drinks, Scully," he said with a smile as she daintily sipped her drink through a cocktail straw. "Depends on my mood," she said swirling the small black straw through the bright green concoction. "Tonight I feel the need to assert my feminine wiles to the biggest extent before they get squashed like a bug," she said smacking her hand on the table. She was two martinis in, and considering her dinner consisted of a small side salad and a couple of pieces of bread it was no surprise she was starting to get a little loose-lipped. "We should order something to eat," Mulder said, snagging an appetizer menu off the end of the bar. "Not hungry," she retorted, stuffing a handful of shelled peanuts in her mouth. "That bowl of nuts begs otherwise," he said pointing at the now almost empty bowl resting on the bar between them. She narrowed her eyes at him as she fished in her martini glass with her straw attempting to stab the rogue cherry bouncing along the bottom of the glass. "Mozzarella sticks," she said with a nod, finally managing to stab the cherry with her straw. "Girly drinks and fried food," Mulder said with a smile, "You're really letting loose tonight." She pulled the cherry off the straw with her teeth before dropping the straw on the bar and draining her glass. "Enjoy it while you can, those recipes Rachel gave me do not sound like they're going to be all that tasty. There's lots of buttermilk and beets involved," she said sitting her glass back on the bar and signaling for another. "Are you sure you want another? We've got a long time in a moving vehicle tomorrow," he said, covering her waving hand with his. She pursed her lips and closed one eye to peer at him. "Another?" the bartender asked, appearing in front of them at the bar. She contemplated the situation, weighing her options before swinging her head toward the bartender. "Water, please," she said with a small smile and a glance toward Mulder, "And Mozzarella sticks." "Two waters please," he addressed to the bartender before turning to Scully, "Good choice," he said, squeezing her hand where it lay on the bar. "I just have no desire to be pulling over every half hour and puking on the side of the road while Helen Abbott judges me from the car in front of us," Scully said, fishing a peanut out of the bowl with her free hand. Mulder kicked back the last of his scotch before pushing the glass to the far edge of the bar. "How do you even drink that?" she asked, nodding her head toward the empty glass. He shrugged, "Holdover from Oxford, I guess. My friends had all spent their teenage years sneaking ridiculously priced scotch out of their father's liquor cabinets. I had to learn to like it or out myself as a beer fan." "You know I don't care if you're a beer fan. You don't have to impress me," she said, turning her hand over to trace random patterns on his palm. "Old habits die hard," he said with a shrug, letting go of her hand to slide a glass of water toward her from where they had appeared at his elbow. He raised the glass and tilted it toward her in toast. "To a successful case," he said as she lifted her glass and touched it to his. They both took a sip and sat their glasses on the bar before digging into the mozzarella sticks that had been placed between them during their toast. --- Sunday May 3, 1999 - 10:45am Ellensburg, Washington "I - Inbred," Scully said, tapping her toes against the dashboard. She'd kicked her shoes off somewhere around Seattle and had rested her socked feet on the dash for the foreseeable future. "Huh?" Mulder asked, giving her a sideways look as he merged back onto the highway. "Inbreds, you know, those Peacock people," She said with an exasperated sigh. This game had been his idea and yet he was questioning every answer she gave. "Oh, right, I would have used that for P," he said, checking his distance between their rental truck and the Abbott minivan ahead of them. "Too bad, used it for I," she said, stretching her arms over her head. "Your turn, J." "Jersey Devil," he said without missing a beat. "You would go with the naked beast woman," she said with a small laugh. "What can I say, dirty, naked women running around the woods of New Jersey tend to leave a lasting impression," he said with a shrug. "Can you hand me my coffee?" "Bossy bossy," she said, snagging his cup out of the cup holder and handing it across the bench seat to him. "Just preparing you," he quipped back, closing his hand around both her hand and the cup. He felt her fingers tense, along with the rest of her body before she released the cup and turned to look out the window. Fuck. "Hey," he said, putting the cup between his legs and reaching over to pull her hand back. "I was kidding," he said, tugging on her arm. She snatched it back and stared out the window. The silence in the car was deafening. 'Way to go, jackass,' he mused to himself as he took a swig of his coffee and reached to put it back in the cup holder. She met him halfway and took the cup and put it in the cup holder before drawing her feet under her and turning her entire body to face the window and pillowing her head on her bent arm. The silence reigned inside the cab of the truck for another half hour before she broke the silence. "The Kindered." "Huh?" "The Kindered, K. Your turn," she retorted, reaching for her own coffee in the cup holder. He reached out and snagged her hand halfway to the cup. "I'm sorry, I'm an asshole," he said, squeezing her hand gently before resting them on the seat between them. "It's okay, and yes you are," she retorted, reaching for the coffee with the other hand as she laced their fingers together. "I just need to not be so damn sensitive," she said sipping her tepid coffee. "And I need to be more sensitive," he said, running his thumb across the back of her hand. "Leonard Betts." She turned her face to him, squinting at him across the cab. "Huh?" "The game, L, Leonard Betts," he said giving her hand a squeeze. "Right. Jesus, our attention spans suck," she said, putting her feet back on the dash and leaning her head back against the headrest. "So...meeting the kids this morning was...intense," he said, flicking his eyes across the bench seat to her before returning them to the road. "I've never seen a group of toddlers be so quiet before," she mused, prodding at the dash latch with her big toe. "I have a feeling they were on their best behavior. Helen looks like one of those women who instills the fear of God in her kids, and I'm sure Rachel lets her walk all over her," Mulder said, keeping his eyes fixed on the license plate of the mini van in front of them, "Rebecca said that was normal." "They were cute though," Scully said, bypassing the subject of discipline of kids. "I get the feeling that Amelia and Andrew are the troublemakers of the group," she said with a smile. "Of course, they're redheads after all," Mulder said with a grin, "You know what they say about redheads" "No, do enlighten me," she said with a smirk. He clamped his mouth shut and she grinned at him from across the seat. Sunday May 3, 1999 - 6:45pm Boise, Idaho Scully stood outside the truck and stretched, her back cracking delightfully. She pursed her lips and rolled her neck before perching against the door of the truck. "Anna?" a small voice came from behind her. After a second the voice came again, along with a tug at her jacket, "Anna?" 'Oh, right, that's me,' she thought, turning to face the voice. She found herself looking down into the face of little Louise, one of the middle Abbott children and the one who had spent considerable time in the hospital. "Hi Louise," she said squatting down to her level. "My mommy wanted me to give you this," she said holding out a piece of paper folded in half. Scully smiled and took the paper, "Thank you." "You're welcome," Louise said, shoving her behind her back and swiveling back and forth, causing the skirt of her little blue dress to twirl around her knees. "Are you excited to see your cousins?" Scully asked, pushing a loose brunette curl back behind the little girl's ear and resting her hand on the tiny upper arm. Louise nodded, ducking her head shyly. "Sc...Anna?" Mulder's voice came from behind her, tripping over her name as he noticed her small companion. Louise's head shot up and she started backing away towards where the rest of her siblings were waiting. "Tell your mom thank you for the note," Scully said, giving the little girl's arm an affectionate squeeze. Louise nodded and gave a small wave before turning and running back to her siblings. "She's cute," Mulder said, extending a hand to help Scully stand from her squat. "She gave me a note," Scully said showing him the paper. "From who?" "Rachel." "Ah, what's it say?" "Not sure, haven't read it. Did you get a room?" she asked, tucking the note in her coat pocket. He held out a key and jangled it in front of her, "One room with questionable bed linens and too small bath towels, no waiting." She rolled her eyes and pulled the keys out of his hand, "You get the bags, I'll go make sure the key works," she said with a wink. He grabbed their two duffle bags out of the back of the truck before securing a tarp over the truck bed to keep their other possessions and supplies from getting wet should the sky choose to open up with rain, 'or snow' he mused as he pulled his coat tighter around him, during the night. He dropped the heavier of the two bags on the ground outside the door before shouldering his way inside. "Rachel wants to talk to us," Scully said robotically from her perch on the bed. "That's good, right?" He asked, swinging their duffles onto the couch under the window. She shrugged, "She said she'd knock after the kids were in bed." "What do you think she wants?" Scully shrugged again, dropping the note on the bed before flopping back against the pillows. "I'm so tired, I don't know if I have the energy to rehash my duties as a proper FLDS wife tonight," she said, letting her eyes slip closed. "Surely she's not coming over to berate you or anything, I don't get that vibe from her." "Me either," Scully said, scrubbing her hand over her eyes. "But you never know." "Still, that sounds more like Helen's forte than Rachel's. She probably just wants to apologize for the disaster dinner last night," Mulder said, plopping down on the bed next to her. "I could sleep for a month," he mumbled, pressing his cheek into the pillow. "Me too, and the real work hasn't even started yet," she grumbled, pushing herself into a seated position. "I'm going to take a shower, I don't think it will be long before we have company. Those kids looked like they were about to drop." After hearing the water start and lying prone on the bed for a bit, Mulder heaved himself to his feet off the surprisingly comfortable bed. "I can't figure out if this bed is awesome or if I'm just that tired," he called through the closed bathroom door. "You're just that tired," came her muffled response as the shower curtain rings pinged across the rod as she opened the curtain. Mulder dug through his bag of clothes, extracting a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for sleeping. He didn't suppose Scully would appreciate him crawling into bed with her in his usual pajamas - nothing more than boxers and socks. His hand encountered a plastic bag in the bottom of his duffle as he fished around for socks. He wrapped his fingers around the bag and tugged it loose from where it was wedged between pairs of jeans before dropping it on the desk. The contents of the bag tinkled against the wood and he stared at them. Rings. He'd forgotten they were going to be wearing rings. In fact, they should probably be wearing them now. "What, pray tell, is so fascinating?" Scully asked from the doorway to the bathroom. He turned and took her in in all her freshly showered glory: soft cotton pajamas, bare feet, and briskly toweling off her hair with a tiny white towel. He empted the bag into his hand and closed his fingers around the tiny gold circles as she crossed the room toward him, a curious tilt to her head. "You gonna say something or has the proverbial cat got your tongue?" she asked, standing in front of him peering up at his bewildered face. He unfurled his fingers and revealed the two rings in the palm of his hand. She blanched, and stopped drying her hair. "Oh," she said softly, her brows knitting in concern, "I hadn't thought about that." "Me either," he said, giving his head a shake to try to loosen the cobwebs from his brain. "Well, they're less ostentatious than that gaudy rock they gave me last time," she said, peering at them where they rest in his hand. "That was pretty awful, wasn't it?" he said cracking a smile. "It covered the whole bottom joint of my finger," she said wrinkling her nose at the memory. "I think it's pretty typical for FLDS to wear simple rings - after all they have to buy more than one," Mulder said, moving his hand to send the two rings clinking together in his palm. Scully swatted his arm lightly with a smile. "What?" he asked with a leer, "I was being serious!" "I know, it just sounds so...ridiculous," she said shaking her head. "So..." he said, pushing his hand out toward her. "So..." she echoed, staring at a spot on his wrist. "I guess we should put these on," he said, bringing his eyes up to her face. "I suppose so," she said, still staring at his wrist and reaching for the smaller of the two rings. "Uh-uh," he said closing his hand and pulling it behind his back. She brought her face up to meet his and gave him a quizzical look. He brought his hand back around and set the larger of the two rings in her hand. "Mulder, this will fall off. I think the other one..." she started, reaching for his other hand. He grabbed her hand with his free one and ran his thumb across her wrist before taking the ring and slipping it on the correct finger and lifting her hand to press a soft kiss to the back of it. "Oh," she breathed, comprehension dawning. She tugged his hand toward her and slipped the ring on his finger before lacing their fingers together and letting them hang between them. They were quiet for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts staring down at their joined hands. Scully shook her head and gave his hand a squeeze, "You should take a shower - don't want to scare poor Rachel off with your 'I've-been-in-the-car-for-10- hours' smell." "I thought you liked my manly smell," he said with a small pout as he snagged his clothes off the table where he'd dropped them upon discovery of the rings. "I do enjoy a manly smell, yes," she said with a smile, "But you, however, smell like cheetos and car air freshener." "Point taken," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender as he backed toward the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Scully took up residence against the headboard of the bed flipping channels on the TV before coming to rest on the evening news. She held her hand up, contemplating the ring on her fourth finger. It was so simple, a thin band of gold with no embellishments - much like her own mother's wedding ring. She wondered if Skinner had touched base with her mom yet, she would have to call in the morning to ask. She brought her attention back to the ring, part of her had hoped that, after Arcadia, the next time she'd have a ring on that particular finger it'd be for real. The other, more rational part of her had known that there would probably never be a ring on that finger. She'd resigned long ago that marriage just didn't seem to be in the cards for her, outside of undercover operations of course. Even when she'd been in relationships that were seemingly heading in that direction, she'd panicked when the topic had come up every time. She'd always thought growing up that she'd be the one to get married and have a bunch of kids and Melissa would be the one wandering wild and free, cavorting with men at whim and never marrying any of them. "My, how the cards have changed," she grumbled as she twirled the ring on her finger. "What cards?" Mulder asked from the doorway of the bathroom where he stood with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. "Huh?" she asked, dropping her hand to her lap, "Oh, just thinking out loud." "Ugh, can we turn that off? It just depresses me every time it comes on," he said gesturing to the news that had yet another psychologist delivering a profile of Dylan Klebold. "I wasn't even paying attention to it," Scully said flipping the channel a few times before turning the set off entirely. "It's the same thing over and over again, you think they'd give those families a rest now," Mulder said, sliding onto the bed next to her. Scully nodded and put the remote on the nightstand as someone rapped softly on their door. "Coming," Mulder called, crossing the room and opening the door, revealing Rachel on the other side. "Please, come in," Scully said standing from the bed and crossing the room to pull out a chair for the young woman. Rachel sat down in proffered chair as Scully took up residence in the other and Mulder perched awkwardly on the bed. "Thank you for the note," Scully said softly after a few moments of quiet trying to prod the young woman into talking. "I'm sorry about dinner," Rachel said, addressing the statement to her lap. "Malachai and Helen are not exactly thrilled with my decision to go back to try to help my sister." "They aren't thrilled to be going back, or aren't thrilled that you came to us?" Mulder asked gently. "Both," Rachel said, chewing on her bottom lip. "They're worried we're sticking our collective noses into something we should have stayed out of, but I couldn't stay away." "It's your sister, of course you couldn't," Scully said gently, reaching out to take Rachel's hand before thinking better of it and pulling her hand back to rest in her lap. "Holly's only sixteen, I can't help but be worried," Rachel said lifting her eyes to meet Scully's. "I know I was only seventeen when I married Malachai, but I was ready - Holly wasn't." "When did you last speak to Holly?" Mulder asked gently, trying not to startle the clearly nervous woman too much. "I haven't spoken to her directly for almost two months. My aunt Jane came to visit three weeks ago to see Louise and check in on me, my mother is in poor health and can't travel or she would have come herself," she explained, "Aunt Jane told me that Holly was pregnant, she was so excited - but my stomach fell to my toes when she told me. She's only sixteen..." she said trailing off. "I know I'm not exactly one to talk, I was only eighteen when Louise was born, but I know Holly wasn't ready. I tried to get in touch with her for weeks, but I never got further than Mariah." "Who's Mariah?" Scully asked, pulling a pad of paper toward her to jot the name down. "Walter Merritt's wife," Rachel said softly. "Your sister married the prophet's son?" Mulder asked, his surprise showing in his tone. Rachel nodded, "Walter Merritt has eight wives, Holly is the newest. I wouldn't be worried if I couldn't get in touch with her and she was married to anyone else, but Walter is different. He's..." "He's what?" Scully prodded gently. "He's...not the nicest man in the world," Rachel finished lamely. "I'm sorry, I should go. I just wanted to apologize for last night and here I am running my mouth off." "No, Rachel, it's okay," Scully said, standing and putting a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Whatever you tell us stays between us, we wont say anything to Malachai or Helen or anyone else. Please don't be afraid to say anything." Rachel shook her head, "I've already said too much. It is not wise to speak against the Prophet." She turned and headed back toward the door. " "Rachel..." Scully started. Malachai says we're leaving at eight in order to get to Clearview by mid-afternoon," Rachel said stiffly standing by the door. "He mentioned that," Mulder said, "Let me walk you back to your room." "I'll be fine," Rachel said side stepping his proffered arm. "I'd feel better if you'd at least let me stand at the door," Mulder said gently. "Goodnight, Miss Scully," Rachel said slipping out the door with Mulder close behind. A few moments later, Mulder let himself back into the room, finding Scully stretched out on the bed her eyes covered with her hands. "That girl is scared," she said, her voice muffled by her arms. "I'm not surprised, she's defying not only her husband but she's accusing the son of her former prophet of hurting her sister. Not exactly small potatoes in this community," he said, chaining the door and flipping off the overhead light. "So...uhh..." Mulder stammered, shuffling his feet by the edge of the bed. "Should I take the sofa?" Scully shifted one of her hands to peer at him with one eye, "We've been driving all day, Mulder, and we've got an even longer day ahead of us tomorrow. I'm not going to jump you in the night, I promise. Besides, we might as well get used to sleeping in the same bed - I think we'd raise a red flag or two if someone found one of us sleeping on the couch." He nodded and crossed around the bed, "Plus, this might be the last decent night of sleep we get for a while" he said, pulling back the covers. "Don't these people get up at the crack of dawn to go milk cows and plow fields?" Scully lifted her hips and let the covers be pulled down beneath her, "Amish, Mulder. That's AMISH. You'd think after two days of..." His laugh cut her off and she reached across she slid under the covers and smacked him on the chest. "You're so easy," he said dodging her flailing hand as she went in for a second swat. Scully rolled her eyes and reached over to set the alarm before flicking the light off. "Hey, Scully?" Mulder whispered in the darkness. "What?" she asked, burrowing into her pillow and tucking the blankets around herself tightly. "Keep your cold toes on that side of the bed," he said, she could hear the smile in his voice. "How about we both just stay on our sides of the bed?" she asked, rolling over to face him. "So no middle of the night cuddling?" he asked, his pout evident. Scully made an exasperated noise before rolling back over to face the door and saying loudly and forcefully "Goodnight, Ephraim." "'Night, Anna."