From: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com   
      
   OooOooO   
      
      
      
   Alex knew this Mulder. Hell, he even liked this Mulder...this was the one that   
   woke you up at three in the morning because he suddenly saw how all the pieces   
   to a puzzle fit together and he had to tell someone, someone that understood.   
   And Alex had    
   nearly always understood even more than Scully had.   
      
   This was the Mulder with shining eyes and a wry smile, his long fingers   
   nervously brushing through his hair as he expounded some weird theory that   
   turned out to be gospel truth. This was the Mulder who had smiled at him,   
   reached out to brush his shoulder    
   when Alex had supplied a small part of the pattern to a case.   
      
      
      
   "I have an idea," Mulder said, bouncing on their bed, apparently not caring   
   that the bedding looked as if water buffalo had been mating amidst them or   
   that the sharp tang of sex and sweat pervaded the air despite the more than   
   adequate circulation from    
   the furnace fans.   
      
      
      
   "You know how you said that Reichert's place looked as if some home handy man   
   had decorated it? I mentioned that to Brian last night," Mulder said. "He told   
   me that when he was visiting Stockwell's home that there was a roll of carpet   
   outside in the    
   driveway. Stockwell said that he had refurbished the recreation room over the   
   garage himself. Real macho daddy kind of roll. Stockwell was pretty surprised   
   when they came back out. Brian said that some scruffy appearing man in an old   
   truck was driving    
   off with the old carpet. Stockwell tried to cover it, but he was freaked. So   
   you know what I'm thinking?"   
      
      
      
   "Daddy played when the family was away? Something happened there?" Alex   
   replied.   
      
      
      
   "Yes, that's what I think," Mulder said. "He's smart enough to know that it's   
   almost impossible to remove all DNA traces from flooring. He pulled the   
   carpet, probably resurfaced underneath using some excuse or another, but to   
   his surprise, a scavenger    
   notices that the carpet isn't in bad shape and takes it. The rug could still   
   be out there. We have to find the man who took it without alerting Stockwell.   
   Brian described the guy as Asian or Hispanic, maybe fifty years old, sparse   
   beard and mustache,    
   dark slanted eyes, hair greasy, black, and below his ears. Brian said the guy   
   was wearing something that looked like worn out khaki. He had a logo on the   
   truck, DVV."   
      
      
      
   "Disabled Vietnam Veterans," Walter said. "There are loosely organized   
   branches all over America. The man probably has some sort of charity operation   
   to benefit disabled vets and their families."   
      
      
      
   "So we have a lead," Mulder said.   
      
      
      
   "Something I can follow up," Walter said. "They'll talk to me before they talk   
   to anyone your age, Mulder."   
      
      
      
   "I can live with that," Mulder said. "Besides, Tekumi is going to take me to   
   talk to street kids. See if we can find any other victims."   
      
      
      
   "Alex, why don't you spend the day with Debbie?" Walter suggested. "To make up   
   for us moving out?"   
      
      
      
   "Sure," Alex said. "Good idea."   
      
      
      
   Walter should have known that was too easy. Alex should have known better than   
   to get involved with a case where he was, no use denying it, a victim.   
      
      
      
   OooOooO   
      
      
      
   There were so many of them. Mulder knew in his head about teenage prostitutes,   
   but the sheer numbers astounded him. They were as young as thirteen or   
   fourteen; Tekumi said there were younger ones still, but most of them were   
   rented out by pimps in    
   private. Some of them were even sold by their parents as Mulder learned had   
   happened to Michael and Ben's foster son, Hunter.   
      
      
      
   Tekumi had a van filled with useful things. Shoes, socks, sandwiches, little   
   kits of bleach even though he wasn't allowed to distribute clean 'works' that   
   might prevent infection, cases of fresh fruit, a few boxes of candy. Each of   
   these donations had    
   the number and address of youth shelters that served gay and lesbian youth.   
   Other than that card, Tekumi didn't preach. Mulder stood back or distributed   
   sandwiches when a kid wanted to talk to Tekumi alone. He started the day   
   impatient to find kids who    
   might have information about Reichert or Stockwell; but by noon, Mulder had a   
   lump in his throat, an ache in his heart, and a conviction that Tekumi was an   
   angel in human form.   
      
      
      
   After a half hour talk with a kid who looked as if he should be hanging out in   
   a video parlor, Tekumi came back and said, "Bobby will meet us later. He's   
   scared to talk on the street. Word is that Stockwell is finding ways to bust   
   any kid who says    
   anything about his dead partner. These kids are incredibly vulnerable. No one   
   gives a damn about them."   
      
      
      
   "I wouldn't say that," Mulder remarked. "They have you. I'd say that Brian's   
   Justin gives a damn. Hell, if you loaded them all up and gave them to Debbie   
   Novotny, she'd thank you for it."   
      
      
      
   "I would, but she's not done taking care of the brats she already has," Tekumi   
   said.   
      
      
      
   "So where are we meeting Bobby?" Mulder asked.   
      
      
      
   "At the hospital where I used to work," Tekumi said. "I promised him a meal at   
   the cafeteria and then we can use the chapel to talk. It's usually empty   
   during the day. I told him a couple hours. I have to finish this route."   
      
      
      
   "The hospital? That's how you met Alex?" Mulder asked.   
      
      
      
   Silence.   
      
      
      
   "Tekumi, I know what happened to Alex, obviously," Mulder said. "They called   
   me in to help since I'm still with the FBI and these days I have some pull."   
      
      
      
   A flicker of a smile greeted his words. Tekumi said, "I suppose it's old   
   habit, guarding privacy of victims."   
      
      
      
   That bothered Mulder. Much as he had hated Alex, he would never have wanted   
   that to happen to him. In retrospect, it made Mulder queasy to think about all   
   the times he made some leering threat about jail house rape to a suspect. He   
   vowed that he would    
   ask Scully to wash his mouth out with soap if he ever so much as hinted at   
   that ever again.   
      
      
      
   Funny, being here, spending time with Alex and Walter brought back some   
   feelings that Mulder had repressed. He had started to trust Alex. Started to   
   enjoy the young agent following him around, bringing him coffee, listening to   
   him, not without question,    
   but with an open-minded attention he seldom had from Scully. Then the shit had   
   hit the fan, Krycek was gone, taking with him a great deal of Mulder's sparse   
   supply of trust in anyone but himself and Scully.   
      
      
      
   Coming here, Mulder knew he was here for Walter, not Walter's lover. Here   
   also, because cover-ups pissed him off.  Now? Now, he was remembering the Alex   
   he had liked. To be honest, despite the pain he had felt last night, seeing   
   them together...he could    
   see how much they loved each other. He wished to hell he trusted anyone as   
   much as those two trusted each other. It didn't make him jealous though. He   
   wanted to help them, give Alex back as much peace as he could find by putting   
   the man who had raped him    
   where he could do no further harm.   
      
      
      
   OooOooO   
      
      
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)