Postmeridianus ab Tartarus
 

FROHIKE:

The more I hear, the more I'm convinced that I need to visit Dr. Shalad's office...for curiosity's sake, of course.

I really don't want to do this alone, but it's midday, which means Langly's at work and Byers is with Juliet in Baltimore. Scratch them.

I could take Michael, but I'm proud to say that he's pushed the last two issues of the magazine out the door almost singlehandedly, and he's gone to work on the next issue...I'm not about to stop him when he's on a roll.

Particularly when I have no idea what I might be getting him into.

Mulder is home at midday...he's watching the kids, though. Not going to work.

Unless...

Kelly, of course, didn't go to work, seeing as she has no work to go to...I could ask her. She's reasonably good with children. Not as good as Michael-for some reason, kids just adore him-but she does well.

And Mulder could use a little funky poaching. He doesn't get to do enough of it lately. It's good for him.

Of course, his last fishing expedition nearly got him murdered by his lovely wife...but this time, we wouldn't be taking any of the kids along.

I think it's time to get Mulder out of the house.

LANGLY:

I thought I should call Mulder first and ask if it's okay if I bring the devil child over to his place, but Scully says, do it.

She really must have it in for him.

I ring the bell, and after about five minutes, Mulder answers with both kiddies in tow and the dog trailing behind. Christ, all the guy needs is an apron.

"Hey Mulder. I need you to watch Patrick." No point in beating around the bush, particularly when I'm already due back from lunch.

He looks a little surprised, but shrugs and says, sure, okay.

"Hurry up and get him in here, though."

"Why?" Now I'm worried...I hope there hasn't been some sort of problem here...

"Because 'All My Children' is about to start."

I leave Patrick screaming with him and bolt back to my car...before I have a nervous breakdown from this kid.

Yep, if Scully wanted to get even with him, I think she got her wish.

Phone rings about ten times before Mulder picks up.

"Hello!" I get the impression I might have interrupted something here. I certainly got in the middle of a maelstrom. I can hear several children's voices screaming and protesting and the bark of a large dog.

"Sounds like you're just having tons of fun there," I find myself grinning.

And Mulder thought a life of fighting aliens, crime and conspiracy was tough going.

I've done suburbia. Believe me, the terrors of the unknown are no match for the ongoing horrors that comprise domesticity.

"Oh yeah, it's a blast. And I have an extra."

"Who?" There are plenty of children in their neighborhood, but his and Scully's kids are sort of young.

"Patrick Langly."

"How'd you end up with him?"

"Langly dropped him here about five minutes ago, and he's screaming his head off. Look, Frohike, can I call you back? 'All My Children' just started, and if I don't watch, I lose the whole story line."

How he plans to follow the tangled web of a soap opera with three screeching children under the age of four, I have no idea...but then, I've never stayed home during the day with children...I suppose you adapt.

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in doing some funky poaching," I proposition him.

"What kind of funky poaching?" All of a sudden, I think he's no longer so concerned about what happens on the soaps today. "I'd have to bring the kids...oh Christ. Scully'll kill me. I'm still being punished for the little side trip I took with Rebecca."

And rightfully so, I think to myself. But I restrain myself from saying it.

"I was thinking maybe Kelly would watch them."

"Did she say she would?"

"I haven't asked her yet."

"Maybe you should do that...I'm interested, sure. But I don't think I can do another week on the sofa. Call me back when you can get a sitter. And I better tell Scully."

"Maybe you'd better not."

"Uh...Frohike? Scully told me if I so much as take them to the park without informing her, I'm going to be on the sofa for a looonnng time to come."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Call me back." He hangs up, but I hear a twinge of excitement in his voice.

Mulder needs the thrill of a chase.

I don't know how much of a chase this will be.

But it'll get him away from the soaps, anyway.

Anybody who lives for the storyline of the soaps, needs a life. Badly.

MICHAEL:

Part of the fun of doing the magazine is doing it with the guys. That includes my dad.

So it hasn't been as much fun lately. I've been pretty much doing this alone.

Know what? It kind of sucks.

I mean, okay. I don't get my balls busted like all the time, like I do when everyone's around...but I don't get feedback. And I don't have company, either.

I hate being alone.

Kelly was helping me after school this morning, but this afternoon, she's checking out some stuff that was in the classifieds...there's this position in admitting at St. Brigid's Hospital, right here in Alexandria, and she needs a job real bad, and she can't dick around. So she's out again.

Once again, little Michael Frohike is holding down the fort.

If my dad doesn't trust me now, he never will.

I wish he'd like say something-like thanks, or you did okay, or fuck you...but it's as if he doesn't even notice.

I'm really trying, Dad.

And my face hurts even worse today. This is really lousy. I tell Kelly about it-my dad let her stay last night, and she got to spend the night in my bed. Which was nice, even if we didn't do anything. She was pretty weirded out, and she just wanted me to hold her.

Worked for me.

Kelly tells me, see a dentist.

Uh-huh. Sure. It's been what, ten years since I saw one?

I can only imagine the horrors...and the chewing out I'll get.

Hey, not my fault I've been poor.

And I don't have insurance. Dad got me medical, but dental, don't think so. It's expensive enough just to carry me for an HMO.

I mean, he's doing stuff for Ms. Russell now...well, today he's not, but most days he is, and that means he's getting more money in.

Me, I'm broker than usual. I only tutor six hours a week in summer. I like that, but the money is like nonexistent. And nobody's done the books here, so nobody's gotten paid from the magazine.

I could use the money. Wonder if I could teach myself to do accounting. I can do stats, calculus, finite math, all that...you'd think I should be able to do some accounting.

I think the prof must have the program or something...maybe there's a tutorial in there.

I'm about to venture into his labyrinth of a computer when the phone rings. We don't get lots of calls, most people do e-mail, but we get a few.

Probably one of the creditors wondering why the hell we haven't paid them. I'm tempted not to pick up. But there's something about the phone that MAKES you pick it up. Pavlovian conditioning, is that? I think so. That was on the last exam in psych class. I must've gotten it right, since I got an A.

"Lone Gunmen Bar & Grill."

I hear a laugh. I know that laugh.

"Hey Frohike Junior." It's Mulder.

"Mulder, whaddya want?" I'm kind of busy here.

"A babysitter."

"Uh-huh. Didn't you guys have a nanny or something?"

"She's back in Scotland right now...listen, your dad and me, we need to get somewhere this afternoon-"

"Excuse me? You and my dad? What're you doing?" I don't like being left out of the loop.

"We were looking for Kelly, actually."

"Kelly's out trying to get a job. Since she sort of lost hers."

"Uh-huh. Well, maybe you could help us out here."

Oh Christ. I like kids a lot, and I love Mulder's kids, but I got so damn much to do...and I need money, big time...

"You paying?" I usually watch kids for free, but today, I've got 16 bucks in my wallet...and that's the end of my money.

"Sure, why not?" He seems a little surprised, but then he agrees real fast. "How much do you charge?"

"One dentist's appointment." Mulder's rich; he can probably swing this.

"One dentist's appointment?" He seems like he didn't get it.

"Which word didn't you understand, Mulder?"

"Seems like odd compensation for watching the kids."

"Look, Mulder, my teeth hurt like hell, my face feels like somebody smacked me all night, and I got no insurance. You pay for me to get this taken care of, you got a babysitter."

"Done." Mulder, being weird himself, really has no problem dealing with weird requests.

I don't really want to see a dentist...but this is just getting out of control.

I hope the girls are quiet today.

FROHIKE:

"Your kid asked for a very weird form of payment," Mulder looks at me like, what the hell.

"And that was?" Usually, Michael doesn't ask for any payment for taking care of children.

"One dental visit."

I'm puzzled here. I'm not sure I heard right.

"Says he's got a sore mouth. And no dental insurance."

I feel a little guilty here. I did check out the possibility, but it was hard enough just to afford to get him into an HMO without dental.

"So what'd he say? I thought you were going to ask Kelly."

"Kelly's on a job hunt. Michael says he'll do it."

"You didn't bother to mention that Patrick was here, did you?" I don't think I heard Patrick's name come up in the short phone conversation.

Mulder grins evilly. "I didn't lie to him. I simply asked him to watch the kids. I didn't say which kids."

He may want to throw in a psychiatrist's visit after this.

MICHAEL:

This was a mistake.

"What's he doing here?" I'm surprised as hell to see Patrick there, and he's not in a good mood...none of them are. He's arguing with Becca over the See & Say-hey, I had one of those. Those are very cool. And the baby is crying.

No wonder Mulder wants the afternoon off. Fatherhood looks very trying at times.

I'm starting to appreciate what my dad goes through with me.

"Langly dumped him here," Mulder explains. "Day care problem."

I bet.

"We'll be back," Dad tells me as they're racing out. Bailing in a hurry.

Now I got to figure out what to do with these monsters.

First things first. Get Sarah to stop crying.

Don't they have a rocking chair here? I'm walking with her, trying to tell her to calm down, it's okay, all that kind of meaningless babble you do with babies-I'm not even sure why. I mean, it's like, they just do it to you.

This is a big house, and I have to scope things out, but I finally find a rocker, in Mulder and Dr. Scully's bedroom. It's big and it's comfy and it's old. I bet it's a real antique.

Hey, it could be cheap shit from Taiwan for all I care.

I stuff Patrick and Becca in Becca's room-they're arguing over Tickle Me Elmo now. I don't get it. Elmo is just so fucking ugly.

They can fight all they want, but they better let me get this baby to sleep.

They're screeching, but I got Becca's door closed and Mulder and Dr. Scully's door closed, so it's like far away. I sit with Sarah and rock her. It takes a few minutes, and she's obviously not too happy that I'm not her mom or dad, but after a while, she gives it up. I sing to her, the same stuff my dad sings to me when I'm sick. Which is really weird. I don't even think about it. It's just there.

By the time I get Sarah snoozing away, I'm just about out for the count myself. And if it was just me and the baby, I'd do it. I'm so fucking tired.

Now for the real trick. I got to get her in her crib without waking her up. This is gonna be interesting.

Success. One kid down.

Two more to go.

Fortunately, Becca thinks I'm God's gift to little kids, and she stops crying when she sees me-and demands I pick her up. Which I do.

Which pisses Patrick off totally. He starts yelling even harder.

I think I see Becca gloat a little bit that I'm holding her and not him.

I got no idea how I'm gonna make these kids happy.

I suggest we all go watch 'Mulan.' They seem to think this is a good idea-but they both want me to carry them.

I try to carry both of them, I'm gonna fall down the steps and kill all three of this. And I think their folks would like to reserve the privilege of murdering them for themselves. Parents are weird that way.

I tell them they can each hold my hand. They aren't too pleased, but they do it. I damn near lose my arms on the steps. Not to mention nearly falling down several times. Kids are a lot stronger than they look.

This is going to be one long fucking afternoon.

'Mulan' keeps them going for a few minutes, but in the meantime, they both want to sit on me. I'm getting crushed here with two kids in my lap and I can't see. I'm glad I have contacts these days, my glasses would've been dead by now.

Then they decide they're hungry. Great.

Dr. Scully doesn't permit junk food, so I scope out some apples and slice them up and put cinnamon on them...my mom used to do this, I remember out of nowhere. This was one of my favorite munchies when I was little.

I decide to slice up another apple for myself. I could use some comfort food here.

What I could really use is a drink, and I know they keep good booze in the house...but I think Dr. Scully would have a cow if she came home and found me intoxicated with her kids.

I wonder if they've got any painkillers lying around. Dr. Scully can write scrips. And Mulder, at least before, was always getting himself maimed in some form.

I don't know where I got the idea I could do apples right now. I damn near die when I try to bite into one. Hurts like crazy.

The kids think this is a great treat, and my apples don't go to waste, Patrick decides he can eat mine.

Just when I think it's safe to get comfy, I discover Becca needs changing. Christ. Diapers are definitely not high on my list.

How does Mulder do this with TWO kids? He must be changing them all day long.

I manage to get Becca changed-and yes, I can change diapers. I prefer not to, but I can do it. No cracks about male ineptitude here, folks.

Back to the movie-except now, Sarah's crying.

Jesus fucking Christ. How long are Dad and Mulder gonna be gone?

Sarah needs changing now. They are singlehandedly making the people who make Pampers incredibly rich.

And she's hungry. I hope there's something for her in the fridge...

Am I supposed to warm this up? How hot?

I nuke it, and I discover I made it too hot. So now she's gotta wait, and she's not happy about this turn of events. She's letting me know it, too.

Then Becca wants one. And Patrick's crying he wants his daddy.

How many kids did Mulder say he wanted?

The guy is more insane than I thought. And I thought he was pretty whacked to begin with.

I don't know how I got through that one, but after a while, I get Sarah fed, and she falls asleep, and then Becca falls asleep on the floor, sucking on her bottle, and I decide I haven't paid enough attention to Patrick and I pick him up.

He's one sad little fella today.

"You miss your daddy?" I ask him.

He starts to cry. He's so little, he really doesn't know what's wrong...all he knows is, his life is all screwed up, and he's miserable.

I know this feeling so well. I ache for him.

FROHIKE:

"Christ, what kind of locks did she have on this place?" I thought we had the ultimate in home security.

"Well, when she's not here, a place like this...evokes a lot of raw emotion in people." Mulder, taking the psychological perspective...which is useful, except when you're trying to get through the door.

We finally get in. We are definitely not supposed to be here. The floor of the building that contains Dr. Shalad's lab is totally sealed off...fortunately, I know a thing or two about elevator bypass, and I made certain before we came that I could hack into it.

This was supposed to be a restful, soothing atmosphere...mauve walls, Thomas Kincaid prints hung up...now askew, and the pastel paint is smeared with blood.

"This was done after the killing," Mulder announces. "She wasn't killed in here."

We attempt to breach her office. This is, if possible, even more difficult than getting through the front door.

Even without a background in forensics, it's obvious to me what happened in here.

A large pool of blood is drying behind her desk. A chalk outline graces it.

What was once a human being, now a victim...a very dead victim.

Mulder's checking the spatter patterns on the walls and surrounding furniture. I suspect this is an area where we could really use Scully's expertise, but contrary to what she may think, he does listen and learn from her. Occasionally.

"What about her files?" he asks.

"Kelly says, all computerized."

"Then where's the computer?"

"Maybe they're in the lab."

Every door we go through, gets harder to break. This door takes nearly fifteen minutes, the one to the lab...and taking this much time makes both of us nervous. The longer we're here, the greater our chances of being found...and we had to lie to the guard at the desk about which floor we would be on. We've already been here over an hour, and an appointment with the ENT on the sixth floor can't take much more than that...of course, we could say we were kept waiting a long time...I just hope the guard didn't call up to verify our appointment.

I should've covered that before we got here, but the elevator bypass took longer than expected.

While Dr. Shalad's office is testament to human destruction, the lab is a monument to a multimillion dollar property loss. It's so destroyed we can barely make out what was what. Mass spectrophotometer, gas chromatograph, gel beds...we can't tell what was what. The destruction of this was total, malicious, and very deliberate.

And the computers are gone.

Fuck.

It's going to be a long afternoon.

END OF PART 55