Message-ID: <3585516C.1670@wmcstations.com> Date: Mon, 15 Jun 1998 16:53:09 +0000 From: Lyle Bontrager Reply-To: lbontger@wmcstations.com X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.01Gold (Macintosh; I; PPC) MIME-Version: 1.0 To: fishies@onelist.com Subject: The Way IV: Sunday (2/2) Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Title: The Way IV: Sunday (2/2) Author: RocketMan >lbontger@wmcstations.com< see part one for other Sunday (2/2) ===== "And now I will show you the most excellent way." --1 Corinthians 12:31 "We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip." --Verve Pipe, "Freshmen" ===== "Mulder, it looks like a day care." He snorted. "This is ridiculous." She grabbed the night vision goggles from his hands and put them to her eyes, focusing them to fit her eyesight. The building was two story with white brick and friendly looking lettering that spelled: "Sunnyside." She panned left and found a playground with old, wooden equipment and a chain link fence. Thirteen boys were swinging listlessly from the tire swings, their faces turned from her and their bodies slumped in the heat. She shifted her view to the right and saw a single steel door, the knob shiny and new and an expensive keypad lock and card swipe to the side. The door was also painted white and she saw no receptionist or signs of more children. The upstairs was obscured partially by trees, but she saw no windows, only a straight smooth facade. "Mulder, this looks odd." "Scully, it's a stupid day care. I just hope that we haven't been set-up somehow." "What do you mean?" she asked, her mind turning away from the little niggling facts pushing her forward. "I think that when we get back, they'll have done something. Found a way to get us shut down. I can feel it coming to that, Scully. Things that have happened have been so close to driving us apart. The bridge on the dam . . ." "Wait, Mulder. Look closer." He frowned and took the binoculars back from her. "I don't see what you're seeing." He glanced back to her. "Keep looking." she said and waited until he was peering through them again. "Okay, the kids on the playground." "Yeah. Uh, thirteen of them. All boys, probably ready to go on inside." "Mulder, first of all. What time is it?" He frowned. "Hunh?" "It's seven o'clock at night. Why are thirteen boys out on the playground?" He frowned. "And why only boys? Some kind of segregation policy?" "And why do they look so sad Mulder? They're not just hot, they're listless. Off somewhere in another world." He smiled at her with a look of relief. "You think there's more to this?" She glanced once again to the cheerful white building with its deceptive closed off door. "Yes. I do. Why do they need that kind of security, why are these boys being forced outside during the middle of the night?" "Wait. Here comes someone." She squinted and looked hard into the dark to watch the door leading to the playground open up. Three men walked out, each grabbing two of the boys and picking them up. "Why-" "Shh." he muttered. They left and shortly came back for the others, leaving one boy by himself finally. That boy looked off into space and then curled up in the dirt, as if he would fall asleep right there. One of the men came back and scooped him off the ground with a rough, loveless gesture. The door shut loudly. "Scully?" "Yeah?" "Maybe I was right. Those kids . . . they're the merchandise." ~~~~~ It was very dark, almost inky, when they slipped from their car and made their way to the building. Nature lent them some additional cover with her loud bull frogs and sharply singing crickets. The wet leaves and sodden ground made their steps soft and they approached the day care soundlessly. "Mulder." she whispered and pointed to the key card door. He nodded and checked for security cameras. He pointed to the left and she noticed an almost invisible mounted camera, its whirring lens shifting as it panned the area. They ducked around to the side and crept silently along the wall. A window on the ground floor offered a view in and they stood on either side peering in. An unlit office greeted them mutely, its furnishings sparse and unused. A desk sat directly in front of them, a clean top and computer-less table. A couch stretched along one wall and a chair was propped before it, a tiny table beside that. Books and notes and papers covered the table and spread underneath. "Scully, it looks almost like a counseling office." She nodded and tilted her face to see past the couch on the right. "Mulder," she whispered, her breath hitching. He looked where her eyes were and saw a man, sitting at the foot of the couch, hands clasped and in his lap, his shoulders trembling. Just at that moment, he caught something out of the corner of his eye and he yanked her down, harshly. "Mulder!" He put his hand on her mouth and warned her with his eyes to be extremely quiet. Then she saw the men, walking slowly around the perimeter of the fence, about twenty yards away and talking softly. She and Mulder crouched there, her breathing seeming almost too loud and his heart beating heavily next to her. When they passed by he sighed and let go of his death clutch on her and motioned that they should leave. She frowned but followed him back along the wall, and eventually to their car. "Why'd you want to leave, Mulder?" "We need to watch the place for a few days, figure out their routines, see how to get inside. We definitely don't need to get caught." He started the engine and let her silently contemplate as he drove them back to the motel. ~~~~~ He was sprawled on her bed watching television when Scully came back in, holding two bags with their take-out dinner. Chinese. Somehow, they always managed to find Chinese for dinner the first night of a really big case. He grinned and sat up, turning down the volume of "Are You Being Served?" that came on Public television. She sat down on his bed and handed him three cartons of food, then grabbed her own choices and opened them. He pried a fork from her fingers and she frowned at him and reached into the bag for another, missing when he speared a bite of noodle. She glared at him and shook the fork in his face. "You eat your own food, Mulder." He grinned and nodded. "Yes ma'am." "And why are you on my bed?" He looked at her with a somber face. "Because there's on awful glare on the television from my bed." She rolled her eyes and began studiously ignoring him and eating her dinner. He continued to watch her and eat his own. Suddenly, she looked at him. "Turn it back up." "Hunh?" "I like this show." He thumbed up the volume and settled back into her bed. She stood and came to sit next to him, wriggling around until she was comfortable. He looked at her. She shrugged. "There's a glare." He smiled and set his empty carton on the floor then grabbed hers and placed it in the same place. Soon they were both stretched out along the bed, laughing as the characters got into more and more trouble. Her head was propped up by his shoulder with his arm circling her, and her arm was twined around his, fingers dancing soft designs on his skin. When the program ended she shifted and turned to see him. Soft lashes framed a sleeping face and she laughed silently to herself and kissed his cheek. He nuzzled her neck in his sleep and she dropped back down beside him, too tired to move. It was *her* bed after all. ~~~~~ end of Sunday adios In Him RM