From: dmcintoshtx@yahoo.com   
      
   CHAPTER 2   
      
   "What is it, Mulder?  What's wrong?"  Scully entered the darkened   
   apartment and eyed him carefully.   
      
   "I don't know … something isn't right.  I thought you might be able to   
   tell me."   
      
   She walked over to him and placed her hand on his forehead; then   
   looked into his eyes.   
      
   "What makes you think something's wrong?  You seem fine to me.  Did   
   something happen in Atlanta?"  She asked as she switched on a light.   
      
   "No, it was a dead end."  Mulder paced the floor and tried hard to   
   sort out his scrambled thoughts.  "At least I think it was."   
      
   "You were gone for almost a month and you didn't find out anything?"    
   Scully took a seat on the black leather couch while Mulder leaned back   
   against his desk.   
      
   "No; I don't think so.  It's all kind of fuzzy."   
      
   "Fuzzy?  Describe the feeling."     
      
   "I remember going to Atlanta, I remember getting a hotel room, I   
   remember spending days at the library researching the Bagwell family.   
    I remember following a few of them and coming up empty.  No   
   connection with the case at all.  I remember that much very clearly."   
      
   "And you felt OK all that time?"   
      
   "Yes.  Then I remember going over to some warehouse.  I don't remember   
   where it was or what it was about or which Bagwell was connected to   
   it.  That's about all I remember clearly."   
      
   "That took three and a half, almost four weeks?"   
      
   "That's where I get confused.  I thought I was gone about a week but   
   the date on today's paper says it's weeks later."   
      
   "And you have no memory of being gone that long?"  Scully was sitting   
   on the edge of the couch leaning forward now.   
      
   "No.  And Scully, I don't even believe this part myself but I don't   
   remember flying home.  I don't remember anything at all after entering   
   that warehouse."   
      
   "You'd better let me take you in and run some tests.  I can't tell   
   anything here."   
      
   Two hours later …   
      
   "Everything checks out just fine, Mulder.  There's nothing physically   
   wrong with you."   
      
   "Then why am I so confused?  Where was I for those weeks I was gone?"   
      
   "I don't know, Mulder.  We may never know; unless you would consider   
   being hypnotized?"   
      
   "No.  You know how I feel about that.  I don't want anyone messing   
   around with my mind.  I'm just tired.  Maybe once I get rested up I'll   
   remember things more clearly."   
      
   "Well, I'm glad you're back.  It's been pretty dull around here."    
   Scully admitted as the two of them walked to a nearby coffee shop.   
      
   "I thought you liked dull.  Isn't that why you went into teaching?"    
   Mulder chided her as they sat down.   
      
   "I like teaching, yes; but I don't like dull.  When you're around,   
   it's never dull."  She smiled up at him.   
      
   "So do you think this is some big mystery or do you think I'm just   
   tired?"  He asked as they opened their menus.   
      
   "With you, Mulder; it could be anything from the possibility that you   
   probably didn't sleep the entire time you were gone to the possibility   
   of some vast international conspiracy."   
      
   "Coffee and a sweet roll."  Mulder gave his order to the waitress   
   standing next to their table with pad and pencil in hand.   
      
   "Mulder, you need to eat something more than a roll!  He'll have a ham   
   sandwich and a bowl of vegetable soup and I'll have the same thing;   
   thanks."  She closed her menu and handed it to the waitress.   
      
   "I'm not hungry."  Mulder said staring off into space.   
      
   "You're never hungry, Mulder, but you need to eat.  Starving your body   
   alone could lead to mental confusion.  Your body needs to eat and   
   sleep at certain intervals every day; not just when you don't have   
   some lead to follow up on.  You should know that by now."   
      
   "All right, I'll eat.  But that won't answer any of my questions;   
   where the hell was I for those weeks and why I can't remember."   
      
   "Maybe not; but it will keep you healthy; and maybe with some rest and   
   a few good meals in you; the confusion might clear up.  It could be   
   that you found out nothing at all and it was just a dead end and was   
   so boring your tired mind tried to wipe it all out."   
      
   "Or it could be the opposite; that something important happened and my   
   mind is somehow rejecting the memory."  Mulder challenged.   
      
   "There are many specialists who work with repressed memories.  I could   
   recommend someone."   
      
   "No thanks.  I'll eat and then I'll go back home and take a nap.  You   
   said yourself there's nothing wrong with me."   
      
   "There's nothing physically wrong with you but the mind is a tricky   
   think to diagnose.  It's always best to consult with experts on the   
   subject."   
      
   "I'm not going to waste my time sitting in some office for weeks   
   discussing whether or not I was potty trained too early or if I sucked   
   my thumb.  I'll eat, I'll rest; then it's back to the case  so I can   
   see if there's anything I missed.  If Atlanta was a dead end then   
   there must be something else that I overlooked."   
      
   "OK, Mulder.  But you need to take this seriously.  Missing time is   
   nothing to sneeze at."   
      
   "This soup does smell good."  He ended the conversation as food was   
   placed in front of them and they ate their lunch.   
      
   XXXX   
      
   "Who are you and what do you want?"  Skinner shouted as he strained   
   against his bonds but it was useless.  The men that had him hurried   
   him along a long corridor and answered no questions; in fact they   
   hadn't even spoken.  They simply grabbed him and sprayed something in   
   his face that made him stumble and fall to the ground.  He remembered   
   seeing Alex transport just before he blacked out so he knew Alex was   
   safe and that he would be coming for him before long.     
      
   "Hurry up, Alex.  Get back here fast and bring an army.  There's a   
   million of these guys!"   
   Walter whispered a silent prayer.   
      
   He was shoved into a tiny windowless room about eight feet square and   
   the door was closed and locked behind him.  He sat down against the   
   far wall and waited saying his silent prayer again and again.  "Hurry,   
   Alex.  I need you."   
      
   He sat patiently for hours then got up and began to pace; stopping   
   every now and then to bang on the door and yell again and again, "Who   
   are you and what do you want with me?"   
      
   He was awakened several hours later as two men came in dressed in   
   white contamination suits.  This was the first time he'd seen any of   
   them in anything other than jeans and blue work shirt.  They pulled   
   him to his feet and walked him out of the room and down the hall.   
      
   "Where are you taking me?  I insist on speaking to whoever is in   
   charge."  He peppered them with questions but like the day before, got   
   no answers or even as much as eye contact from either of the two burly   
   men pulling him along.   
      
   He managed one time to twist out of their grasp and run but that only   
   resulted in another two men cutting him off at the other end of the   
   hall way.  Their vice-like grip on his arms prevented that from   
   happening a second time.    
      
   He was escorted into another room where he was stripped of all his   
   clothes which took all four of them to accomplish.  The two men in   
   white hauled him into a shower room and turned on a valve.  The foamy   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)