A profile in caring - (31 Parts)

[krazykat]

Given how well received the previous X-files fic I wrote was I decided to listen to your advice and follow it up with another one... yes, I know I said that I was going to attempt to reassimilate myself into society, but I failed... my excuse, and I am sticking to it, is that I have a lousy cold and therefore am allowed to be hermit like! I would ask that you try to bear with me as I have never written a 'profiling' story before now and am not sure how it will play out, or if I even have the imagination to pull together a plot that doesn't just resolving around Mulder sneezing his sexy little head off.

Disclaimer: part one doesn't have much sneezing, but I can promise you some Mulder suffering over the following parts of the story and should the mood take me, lots of Scully fussing.

PART ONE

Scully slowly made her way through the archive stacks of the FBI Academy Library at Quantico, searching for her partner who had disappeared three hours ago, saying

that he needed to quickly check on something. She sighed, glancing at her watch, noting with exhaustion that it was nearly midnight and they still had the long drive

back to DC to begin if they wanted to at least see their apartments tonight. She hated this, hated the fact that Kersh had loaned them out to the FBI's Behavioural

Analysis Unit, stating that Mulder might as well earn his pay for a change, and she hated that she had to stand by and watch her partner become completely and utterly

absorbed in the sick minds of men who thought nothing of raping, torturing and murdering people of all ages.

Logically, she knew that as an FBI agent that she should not be upset by Mulder's dedication to cracking these types of cases, but damn it, she worried about him.

Worried about his inability to draw boundaries between himself and the men that he hunted. Worried about his inability to stop even just to grab a sandwich or some

sleep, and as she walked through the periodicals section she couldn't help think of the all consuming madness she had witnessed during the Mostow case and the mini

breakdown he had suffered at the end of it as the reality that his mentor, Section Chief Bill Patterson, the son of a bitch who had driven Mulder deeper and deeper

into the darkness for three years, had himself finally been consumed by that darkness and had been responsible for the deaths of three men.

She shuddered silently as she remembered Mulder sitting in his darkened apartment, crying silent tears as he told her exactly why he had left what had then been called

the Investigative Support Unit, and how she had cried with him, the grief at the things he had witnessed palpable in the air between them. Her anger at Patterson's

manipulations rising by the second, and now here they were again, except this time it was Kersh who was manipulating her partner into playing this dangerous game of

'walk the line' with his sanity.

*Where is he?* she thought to herself, snapping back to the reality of their current situation. Sheknew that he hadn't eaten anything other than those damned sunflower

seeds that he perpetually munched on since she had forcibly handed him a sandwich at lunchtime and threatened to shoot him in the right shoulder this time if he didn't

eat it. She cringed, her guilt at ever having inflicted a gun shot wound on him in the first place, washing over her. *Snap out of it Scully* she told herself, wondering when she had started to refer to herself as Scully and not Dana, *getting maudling won't help you find him*.

Reaching the end of another row, she rounded the corner of yet another stack, and it was then that she spotted him, head down, his face buried in a pile of journal

articles, his suit jacket draped over the back of his seat, his tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up and his glasses askew. Her heart stopped, the fiercely protective feelings that she had towards this man coming to the surface as she realised that her insomniac partner was fast asleep. She stepped forward, walking quietly towards him, cursing the fact that she had to awaken him. She knew that he had barely slept in the last week, a fact evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes, and the glasses he wore, his eyes too tired to cope with his contact lenses. As she reached the desk where he sat and peacefully slumbered, she crouched down next to him, extending her hand up and pushed that errant cowlick of hair she knew he hated off his forehead.

"Mulder" she said, watching as he stirred under her hand. "Come on partner, time to wake up and head home". She stroked his hair again, relishing this intimate moment between them, knowing that as soon as Mulder was awake that they would slip back into their professional roles.

"Scully?" he asked, blinking owlishly as he gently roused from his slumber, the exhaustion evident in his features. "What time is it?"

"It's just coming up on midnight G-man. We should really make a move. I know it will only take about thirty minutes to get to your apartment at this time of night, but

I'd like to get back to mine before 1am and that way I might actually be able to grab four hours before the alarm clock goes off again at 5am so that I can pick you up

and we can get back here in time for the 7am briefing" she replied, inwardly groaning at the thought of the morning meeting. She watched him then, smiling as he

straightened his glasses, pushed the chair backwards and stood up, stretching, his shoulders audibly popping. He groaned, "Eughhh. I'm getting to old to fall asleep in chairs" he complained to her, and she laughed.

"Mulder, the day I start thinking of you as old, I'm in trouble, as I'll have to start reconsidering my own self image" she replied, moving to help him as he started to gather up the case files, the photocopied journal articles and his notes. "You find what you were looking for?" she asked him then, curious to see if he had made any progress trying to decipher the cryptic messages that the UNSUB he was profiling had left in the mouths of the last three victims.

"I'm not sure" he replied, "there are definite ritualistic overtones to the notes, and I had thought that I had spotted some similarities to the early communications that Monty Propps left at his crime scenes, but after checking the notes against the ones that Propps left, and also referring to everything I could find on satanism and ritual in serial killings, including the work Bill and I conducted in the area, I'm not so sure that the similarities are anything more than a coincidence and I still don't know what our killer is trying to tell us". He sighed, "I know that it's not what the team want to hear, but until I can work out exactly what our UNSUB is trying to tell us, I can't begin to fathom his motivation and that leaves us stuck with the basic profile beginning 'white male aged 35 to 40 college educated', and if I can't work it out, eight days from now we will have another victim. Look, why don't you just head back to Georgetown and leave me here, I can always camp out in one of the spare dormitory rooms and grab a shower before the meeting tomorrow".

"Nuh huh, no way partner. You are exhausted and you need a break and I don't care whether I have to forcibly drag you out of here at gun point. You are going back to

your apartment, and I don't care one way or the other if all you do is have a shower and vegetate on your couch in front of one of those videos that aren't yours, but you ARE taking a break" she told him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she looked at him, the look on her face just daring him to argue with her.

He smiled at her then, a tired smile that reached his eyes, and nodded. "OK G-woman, you win. Let me just sort out these notes and we can head out". He continued shuffling his notes into some semblance of order and started to file away the photocopies of the notes left at the crime scene and the accompanying files, the well established routine for handling evidence, even copies of evidence, apparent in his motions. As Scully watched him, he paused, a distant look on his face, and before she could ask him what was wrong, his head snapped forward with the force of the sneezes that suddenly consumed him, HURSCHUUUUH HETSCHOOOOO HETSCHUMPH. He sniffed, rubbing the back of his right hand under his nose.

"You alright Mulder?" Scully asked, noting for the first time the slight flush that covered his cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's probably just a combination of the claritin wearing off and all of the dust down here" he replied, suddenly realising just how tired he actually was. He picked the files up off the desk, sliding them under his left arm and turned towards his partner. "You awake enough to drive?" he asked, hoping that she would say yes and that he could just collapse into the passenger seat, all thoughts of chivalry escaping him as waves of exhaustion washed through his system.

"Yeah, I'll be fine" she replied as she turned and headed through the stacks, Mulder following her, his right hand coming to rest on its usual spot on her lower back.

[krazykat]

A brief interlude whilst I try to work out what to do with the actual plot....

PART TWO

Mulder shivered, pulling his jacket closer around him. He reached over and turned the heater up, the third time that he had fiddled with the cars thermostat since they

had left Quantico fifteen minutes earlier. He was freezing, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to regulate his body temperature. He brought his right

hand up to his mouth, stifling the cough that escaped into it, and stole a surreptitious look at his partner, noticing with relief that her eyes were firmly focused on

the road and not, as he had half expected that she would have been, inspecting him with her medically trained eyes.

*I am NOT getting sick* he told himself for the twentieth time, trying to exert a bit of mind over matter, even though logically he knew that the washed out feeling, the inability to get warm, the flush on his cheeks and the itchy, scratchy feeling that had settled into his throat were all telling him exactly the opposite. He huddled further down into his seat, closing his eyes, trying to ignore just how lousy he actually felt. As he sat there, his eyes closed, he felt a slight itching deep within his sinuses. It was a subtle itch that was not strong enough to make him want to sneeze, but that was irritating all the same. He sniffed, annoyed when the itch neither subsided nor increased, but just remained, the sneeze that would clear it completely out of reach, and as he sat there, the itch driving him crazy, he realised that although he had passed off the earlier sneezes as being from his allergies, that he would not be able to lie to himself for much longer.

Scully, one eye on the road and the other surreptitiously watching her partner, was concerned. The car was like a furnace, yet Mulder was shivering and she could hear

slight traces of congestion in his breathing. She knew that he rarely got sick, his immune system choosing to rebel against innocuous substances like dust, pollen and animal hair instead. She smiled wryly remembering his earlier assertions that the sneezes that had escaped from him in the library had been down to his allergies, knowing, having witnessed enough of his allergy attacks over the years, that if that had really been the case he would still be sneezing now. No, this was not his allergies, this, she suspected was the early stages of an upper respiratory infection.

As they approached the exit from the I95 that would take them out towards Alexandria, she noticed Mulders hand extend towards the thermostat for the fourth time, this time turning the heat down. She stole another glance at him out of the corner of her eye, her concern rising as she noticed the flush across his cheeks. *Yup, he has a fever* she thought to herself, biting back her instinct to ask him how we was feeling, knowing fine well that he would strenuosly deny that anything was wrong.

"I'm fine, Scully", she heard him say and laughed gently at her partners almost instinctual ability to read her thoughts. It was one of the things that made them stronger as a partnership and had saved their lives on more than one occassion in the past. "Really?" she asked, her right eyebrow arching, the challenge issued.

Mulder looked over at his partner, noting the pursed lips, the raised eyebrow and decided that she was not going to settle for an "I'm fine" this evening. "Well, all things considered I'm fine. I'm just absolutely exhausted Scully, and if I'm honest, I think that I'm going to crash the moment my body collapses onto the couch" he clarified, noting with satisfaction that her expression relaxed as he told her the truth. He shivered, the cold air in the car beginning to bother him again and he reached across to turn the thermostat up. As he did, he felt the itching in his nose increase, the need to sneeze building again. He leaned back into his seat noting that they were only a few minutes from his apartment, and slowly raised his right hand to his nose, gently massaging the bridge with his index finger and thumb. His breath hitched, the need to sneeze building, and as Scully turned the car into Hegal Place, the lights of a passing car danced across his features and he succumbed to the sneezes, HARTSCHUUUUH HETSCHEEEEWWW HETSCHUMPH. He groaned inwardly as Scully parked outside his apartment block, the sneezes having caused his head to pound and he tried to remember if he had any tylenol in his apartment.

"So, pick you up at six?" he heard Scully ask and looked up.

"Yeah, do me a favour would you and give me a buzz before you leave yours so I know roughly when to expect you" he replied as he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the door handle, pulling it, and opening the door.

"OK, will do" she replied, looking at him with concern as she noticed the pinched look around his eyes. "Go on, get yourself upstairs and take something for your headache".

"Yeah, night Scull'" he said, waiting for her to reply "night Mulder" before he closed the car door, reached into his jacket pocket for his keys and walked up the stairs to the front door of his apartment block.

[Shay]

Great so far, can't wait to see how his cold progresses.

[krazykat]

PART 3

Number 42, 2360 Hegal Place was swathed in darkness, the only light coming from the fish tank that sat in the corner of the room, it's occupants gently swimming in circles

oblivious to the chaotic thoughts that raced through the mind of the man lying asleep on the couch. The man tossed, turning in his sleep, images from crime scenes fluttering through the gossamer strands of his dreams, a macabre mix of blood and gore accompanied by the sound of the tears shed by grieving relatives and a constant litany of questions, the mans mind working, even now, trying to decipher the meaning of the notes that had been left at the crime scenes.

Mulder bolted awake, gasping, his heart racing, the silent screams of the victims dying out as consciousness returned. He leaned forward, coughing raggedly, the cool air in the apartment irritating his throat. He sniffed, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and pulling the worn navajo blanket his mother had given him years before around his shoulders. He groaned, squinting at the alarm clock. It was 3.42am, he had slept for all of two hours and suddenly he understood exactly why his head was pounding. He stood up, wearily walking into the kitchen, his left hand clutching the blanket around his shoulders, his right hand coming up to his nose to catch the two sneezes that escaped from him, HETSCHUUUUUUMPH HETSCHT. The pounding in his head increased as he realised that he was no longer able to breathe in through his nose, the congestion in his sinuses having increased as he slept.

*Water* he thought to himself, as he grabbed a glass, turned on the tap and started to run the water, waiting until it ran cool. He turned the tap off, placing the unfilled glass on the counter and turned walking to his fridge, the sudden realisation that he hadn't actually drank water from the tap since the water supply to his building had been laced with LSD in an attempt to discredit him. He opened the fridge door, leaned in and grabbed a bottle of mineral water, the only thing in his fridge other than an expired jug of 'fresh' orange juice. He sneezed again, the cold air from inside the fridge slipping into his sinuses, teasing the itchy feeling that had settled deep within.

He unscrewed the cap on the water, bringing it to his lips and sighed with relief as the cool liquid relieved his dry, itchy throat. He looked at his watch, noting that barely two minutes had elapsed since he had been thrown into consciousness, but there was still another hour until he could take another couple of tylenol. He sniffed again, a wet irritated sounding sniffle and he realised that he desperately needed to blow his nose. Walking into his bedroom, he startled, still surprised to see the waterbed and the mirrored ceiling, still no wiser as to how they had turned up in his apartment. He crossed the floor to the bedside table, opened the top door and pulled out a crisp, clean, white handkerchief.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, momentarily surprised when it undulated beneath him. He brought the handkerchief to his nose, inhaled and then he blew. The wet gurgling sound of his congestion evident as it was blown out of his nose and onto the cotton handkerchief. He took another breath and closed over his right nostril, blowing again until a loud honking could be heard, before repeating the process with his left. He groaned as the pressure in his head lifted slightly, aware that the itching that had settled into his sinuses was making him want to sneeze.

He stood up, leaned into the drawer to grab another handkerchief and headed back into his living room, pausing at the door as he felt the need to sneeze increase again. He waited, surrendering himself completely to the all consuming tickle that danced within his nose, like a feather would dance in the wind. He squinted at the light from the fishtank, hoping that it would be enough to coax the sneeze out, but no, it remained, stubbornly refusing to come out. "Eugghh, kill be now" he said to his empty apartment, before raising his left hand to his nose to scrub at it in frustration. Wide awake now, and feeling absolutely lousy, Mulder was sure that he would not be able to get back to sleep tonight. He sighed as he realised that his partner would no doubt kill him for not getting the rest that she had ordered. *Oh well* he thought to himself, *may as well use the time productively*.

He walked over to his desk, turning on his computer and grabbing his glasses as he waited for it to boot up. He walked into the kitchen, flicking the switch down on his kettle, and grabbed a mug, dumping two teaspoons of instant coffee into it, waiting for it to boil. He shivered and pulled the blanket closer round his shoulders, a cough escaping from him as he did so. The kettle clicked off, the water having boiled, and he lifted the kettle up off the counter and poured the hot water into the mug. Replacing the kettle on the side, he grabbed the mug and headed back into the living room in order to refine his profile of the UNSUB.

[Shay]

Nice descriptions of those sneezy urges.

BTW is "Number 42 Hegal Place" his actual address(haven't watched the show enough to know), or did you use that number for other nefarious reasons?

[krazykat]

OOPS!! Sorry folks... someone know how to delete duplicate posts? I',m blaming it all on the drugs... of the decongestant variety that is.

Kythe, 42 Hegal Place is part of his address... I forgot that the apartment was 42, but that the building actually has a number, will fix when I work out how!

[Shay]

Oh ok and here i thought maybe you put that in there cause you were a Douglas Adams fan. Well nevermind.

Well you can just edit the post and change the text to say "oops duplicate post" or something like that, or you could just send a PM to a moderator and ask them to delete it. Underneath the link to the stories section should be a link that will tell you who moderates this part of the forum.

[krazykat]

Thanks K.

I think that the Xfiles writers used the number because of the Douglas Adams link.

[Shay]

Maybe, maybe not. I swear everytime I see 42 I think it has something to do with Hitchhiker's Guide. Though the only times I've seen it and knew for sure that it was related to Douglas Adams was a couple of instances in Stargate Atlantis.

[silentdreamer789]

Oh WOW, Mulder with a cold!!!! Amazing. Very much looking forward to the morning and his going back to work, and the possible Scully fussing...

[krazykat]

PART 4

Mulder sat at his computer, the light reflecting off of his glasses as he typed, the profile of the man who had kidnapped, raped and violently stabbed to death three women falling from his fingers and onto the screen in front of him. "The UNSUBs family history will show evidence of a violent and chaotic childhood. Physically and emotionally abused by his mother for being weak willed, and sexually abused by his father, the UNSUB would have shown early signs of withdrawal from society. A loner by choice rather than circumstance, he would have withdrawn into a world of violent and retributive fantasies, an angry teenager determined to revenge the injustices meted out by his parents. An exploration of the UNSUBs academic records would show unsuccessful interventions by social services and educational psychology: all of these professionals believing his parents assertions that nothing was wrong in the family home"

He paused then, his hands slipping from the keys, his eyes closing as his photographic memory pulled up the crime scene images of the three victims. He sniffed,

coughing as his closed eyes scanned the images in his mind looking for something, anything to jump out at him. He opened his eyes, extending out his right hand to grab

the cup of coffee that was resting by the monitor, bringing it up to his lips and drinking the now cool liquid. His nose was running, the congestion that had built up in his nose desperate to escape. He sniffed, reaching out to grab the handkerchief, brinking it up to his nose and blew, the congestion in his nose barely easing despite the loud honking sounds eminating from his sinuses. He groaned, knowing for a fact that were he to look in the mirror that his nose would be an interesting shade of red. *Just what I need on a nose this size* he thought to himself.

He dropped the handkerchief back onto the desk, extended his hands out to the keys to continue typing when all of a sudden he sneezed, WAAHHHHSSSCHHUUUU

WAHHHSCHEEEEEEWWW WARSCHHUUUUHHHH, three horrendously large sneezes, the mist from the sneezes landing on the computer monitor, glistening in the blue light exuded from the fish tank. He swiped at his nose with the back of his hands, the mucus dripping from his nose moistening the small hairs covering the back of his hand. He wiped his hand on his sweat pants, grabbed for handkerchief he had yet to use and reached forward, wiping the small beads of snot off the screen. He sneezed again, this time managing to turn his head, sneezing towards the floor and groaned as he felt the sinus headache worsen. He looked at the clock, noting with relief that it

said 4:32 and that he could now take some more tylenol. He stood up, walked over to his coffee table and snatched up the open bottle, shaking out two pills. He lifted

the hand that contained the pills to his mouth, dry swallowing them and headed back to his desk, collapsing into the chair and bringing his hands up to the keyboard once more.

"The UNSUB is a man that is easily able to blend into the background. He is not attractive, not the type of man that a woman would stop to look twice at, and this, his

ability to hide in plain sight, makes him dangerous. It also enrages him, the women that he desperately wants to notice him ignoring him instead, and as he rages at

them for failing to notice him, the lust that he feels becomes confused with his anger and his need for vengeance. The UNSUB stalks these women, hunting them, his

obsessional lust for them growing along with his rage as they continue to ignore him"

Mulder coughed, a deep irritated cough that caused his throat to ache. He continued typing, his fingers quickly tapping across the keys, as he felt the itching in his

sinuses increasing again. He sniffed, a wet, irritated sound, that caused him to cough. He sneezed again, his head turning to the side in order to prevent spraying the

screen, HARSCHEEW, HUH, EHH ETSCHEEEEEW. He turned back towards the screen, sniffling almost continuously now, his nose running, but unwilling to stop typing in order to bury his nose in a handkerchief and blow.

"The intricate knotting on the restraints used to subdue the victims would have offered the UNSUB no functionality and would not have increased his ability to subdue

the victim. Instead, they form part of the UNSUBs modus operandi, and demonstrate the intense need he has for ritual, an obsessive need to complete the crimes

according to his own, meticuously thought out routine. The velvet hoods that were placed over the victims heads also speak heavily to the ritualistic nature of these

crimes, the use of the knife as a weapon completing the intimacy of the crimes. Although the knife wounds originally appear to be frenzied, I believe there to be an

order to the stab wounds, the UNSUB incapable of planning the rest of his crime according to ritual and then descending into frenzy. He needs the ritual, needs to cut

the victims in order to achieve the sexual release he desperately craves".

He stopped, his breath hitching and he desperately grabbed for one of the handkerchiefs, knocking the cup of coffee onto the floor in his haste to bury his nose into

the soft cotton and succumb to the sneezes. *Shit* he thought to himself, watching as the cup fell, the cool liquid sinking into the navajo blanket that lay discarded

in a heap at his side, his over heated body no longer needing it as he sweated from the fever. He waited, the handkerchief poised in front of his face, slight gasps

escaping as his breathing became more ragged, the need to sneeze building further. He squinted at the fish tank, hoping that the slight light coming from it would be

enough to coax the sneezes out. His jaw dropped, his mouth opening, lower lip trembling as his nostrils flared, the irritation in his nose desperate to escape. His

head snapped forward, HARTSCHUUUUUMPH, his hands closing the handkerchief around his nose, catching the sneeze. A second, and third sneeze slipped from his nose and he stifled them, HNGXXT HETCHNGXXT, blowing his nose after the third sneeze.

Ignoring the coffee cup, he turned back to his computer, finishing the profile over the course of the next five minutes. He saved the document, and emailed it to his

works account, cc'ing a copy to SAC Hutchins, the agent in charge of the investigation. Quickly, he hit print, listening as the printer started to spool, the paper feeding into the tray, a description of a mad man being lasered onto the crisp whiteness. He sighed, standing up, a soft cough escaping from him as he stretched, yawning as he felt exhaustion washing over him. He looked at the clock, noting that it was nearly five am and that Scully would be arriving in just over an hours time to pick him up for the drive back to Quantico. He slumped down onto the couch, his right hand rubbing at his eyes. *I'll just grab twenty minutes* he thought to himself as he swung his legs up onto the couch and stretched out, his eyes slipping closed as sleep descended.

[Shay]

Aww poor Mulder. He should really spend the day in bed, but somehow I sense he's not going to do that making matters worse.

[silentdreamer789]

Aww poor Mulder. He should really spend the day in bed, but somehow I sense he's not going to do that making matters worse.

Mmmm...I certainly hope so... Great chapter.

[krazykat]

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 4, I found it really difficult to write something that combined pathetic sneezing Mulder with something that sounded even remotely plausible as a background for a serial killer, so I'm really glad you enjoyed it.

PART 5

Scully sighed as she pulled into Hegal Place, listening as Mulder's home phone went to the machine, again. This was the third time that she had called since she left her apartment thirty minutes previously, and she was worried. *Where is he?* she asked herself, hoping that he was just lying on his couch dead to the world, having finally surrendered to the sleep that had been evading him since they had been asked to join this taskforce five days ago, and that he had not run off somewhere half cocked as he had been known to do in the past. She spotted a space on the corner, pulled into it and turned off the engine. She took the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse off of the passenger seat and then headed up to his apartment, using the spare keys that she kept to let herself in the outer door.

She boarded the elevator and pressed for the fourth floor. She was exhausted, less than four hours of sleep a night was not enough to effectively function the next day. The elevator stopped, the doors opening on Mulder's floor and she stepped out of the elevator, walking along the corridor towards Mulder's apartment, her fingers playing with the key to his apartment. She stopped, key in hand, ready to use it when she realised that although he hadn't answered the phone she probably should give him the benefit of the doubt and knock rather than just entering his apartment unannounced. She raised her hand up to the door, the '2' hanging upside down as usual, Mulder having given up on reattaching it to the door, and knocked. She waited, thirty seconds passed with no answer. She knocked again, waiting a further thirty seconds before she pushed her key into the lock.

She opened the door slowly, peering round it to check that she couldn't see him walking around his apartment naked or something. She spotted him then, lying fast asleep on his couch, his glasses lying across his eyes at a precarious angle having moved as he slept. His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed with fever, small beads

of perspiration on his forehead and Scully hated the fact that she had to wake him. She walked softly into the living room, avoiding the two places on the floor where the boards would have creaked and resulted in him startling awake. She noted the bottle of tylenol which lay open, chuckling to herself as an image of him wrestling with the cap popped into her head. He was absolutely hopeless when it came to opening child safety caps on pill bottles

She reached the couch and knelt down beside him, extending her hand out to touch his forehead. His skin was warm, but not hot too the touch, she lowered her hand to his shoulder and gently shook it, watching as he began to rouse from his slumber. He looked at her through sleep encrusted eyes, and started to speak "Scully, I"

before he broke off coughing, grimacing at the pain in his throat. He sat up, removed his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Eugghhhh, what time is it?" he asked her as he reached for the bottle of water on the coffee table, removed the lid and gulped down the remaining liquid, pausing only to cough.

"It's nearly six. We need to get on the road, about now really, if we are going to make this meeting" she replied.

He coughed again. "K, let me grab some clothes. I can always grab a shower at quantico after the meetings finished".

Mulder stood up, swaying slightly as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He stood still, his eyes closing momentarily, his hands coming out to steady his balance. He was exhausted, the pounding in his head had returned, his throat hurt and he wanted to sneeze. He startled as he felt Scully's hand come to rest on his elbow and looked down, noting the obvious look of concern on her face.

"I'm alright Scul', just stood up too quickly" he said looking down at her and smiling reassuringly. He stepped away from her, turning to head towards his bedroom when

he paused, a look of irritation crossing his features. He sneezed, once HARSCHHOOOOOO, twice HAAIIISHOOOOOOO, three times HARSCHEEEEEW, his right hand coming up to his nose to catch the sneezes. Rubbing at his nose, the sneezes finished for now, he headed through into his bedroom, sidestepping the debris of yesterdays suit and dress shoes. He opened the closet, looking at the suits, his nose wrinkling at the thought of wearing one. *Well, the bureau didn't relax their dress code for nothing* he told himself as he leaned in, pulled out his black jeans, a white t-shirt and a forest green pullover. He quickly got dressed, ran his right hand through his hair in lieu of combing it, stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and stopped as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

*I look like shit* he thought to himself as he took in the rosy colouring on his cheeks and the red, irritated nose. He turned on the tap, lowered his head towards the

basin and splashed some water on his face. He reached for the toothbrush and toothpaste, going through the motions. He looked at his razor and decided to forego his

morning shave. He turned off the tap, grabbing a hand towel and bringing it up to his face, wiping away the excess water. He sneezed, four times in rapid succession,

catching them in the towel. He groaned silently as he felt the pressure in his sinuses building. Dropping the towel to the floor, he walked back into his room and

grabbed his ID and the standard issue FBI Sig Sauer that sat holstered ready to be clipped to his belt. He leaned down and grabbed his dress shoes and walked back into the living room, dropping down onto the couch to slip on the shoes, looking up as Scully appeared carrying a bottle of water.

"I was going to try and force some vitamin C down your throat but your OJ is two months out of date. What is it with you and throwing stuff out? I swear the only reason that there aren't more science experiments growing in that toxic waste dump that you call a fridge is because you have barely seen this place in the last week" she said, laughing at the mock innocence written across his face as if to say, 'what? who me?' She continued as she handed him the water. "You should take some more tylenol, it'll help your head".

"Can't. Got another two hours or so before I can take some more" he replied as he stood up, walked over to the printer and lifted his profile out of the tray, slipping it into a folder. He glanced up, noting the disapproving look on Scully's face. "Don't worry, I got some sleep. I just woke up around the back of three with some ideas and had to get them down on paper". He walked towards her, slipping on his leather jacket, grabbed his keys off the table, slipped them into his pocket and then they both left the apartment, Mulder locking the door behind him. They walked to the elevator, pressed the call button and as they waited for the elevator to arrive, Mulder was racked with sneezes.

[tma]

Ooooo... hadn't caught this before. Have beenon vacation. Very nice! *yum*

[Shay]

I don't know why, but just reading this makes me want to push Mulder back down onto the couch and give him a nice neck rub.

[krazykat]

I don't know why, but just reading this makes me want to push Mulder back down onto the couch and give him a nice neck rub.

Kythe honey, I can think of plenty of other things that I would like to do with a sniffling, sneezing Mulder than just rubbing his neck

[Shay]

Well yeah of course, but got to get him relaxed and feeling a bit better first though.

[krazykat]

PART 6: a brief interlude

Scully surreptitiously glanced at her partner as he stifled yet another sneeze in his handkerchief. He had started sneezing as they had waited for the elevator at his apartment block and he showed no signs of stopping any time soon. He looked terrible and the mothering side of her wanted nothing more than to take the next exit of

the I95, turn around and head back to Alexandria so that she could tuck him into the waterbed he had bizarrely accused her of buying for him. However, the professional

persona of Special Agent Dr. Dana Scully, M.D. continued driving south towards Quantico, suppressing the concern that she felt for this man, aware that they had a

briefing to attend and a serial murderer to apprehend.

HARTSCHUUUUUUUH, Mulder sneezed again, groaning as he felt the need to sneeze immediately regain its hold on his sinuses. He felt awful. His head was pounding, the

tylenol he had taken two hours previously having already worn off. He was burning up and yet he could feel the slight shivering that racked his body. His throat hurt and he had a slight dull ache in his chest that made him want to cough, and then there was the sneezing. *Oh God, the sneezing*, he thought to himself as his head snapped forward again, the wet, spraying sneeze caught in a now sodden handkerchief. *If I could just stop fucking sneezing, I would probably feel a hell of a lot better*, he thought to himself as he buried his nose in the handkerchief and blew, releasing the congestion that continued to plague him.

"You really don't sound good Mulder" Scully said, her eyes fixed firmly on the road in front of her, immediately regretting having said anything, knowing that her partner would just deny it in spite of the fact that in the last forty minutes he had averaged a sneeze approximately every thirty seconds.

"Doh shit, Scuwwy" he replied, shocking the hell out of Scully with his frankness. He chuckled, the laugh breaking off into a cough. "Look, there's doh point by denying it when I cahhhhh AHHTSCHOOOOOO cab't stop sneeding for bore than a bidute. I know I started sneeding before we gohd into the car, but I dob't think the air conditioning is helping. Look, I'll behhhh buhhhhhhHUTSCHEEEEEW be fine. I probise".

Scully smiled, relaxing at the rare moment of honesty that had just passed between them. She checked the mirrors on the car, changed lanes and signalled as she took

the off ramp that would take them out to Quantico.

[Shay]

Poor Mulder, he's doing just as badly if not worse than Sheppard is in the part of my story I'm working on.

[krazykat]

Poor Mulder, he's doing just as badly if not worse than Sheppard is in the part of my story I'm working on.

Ooh.... can't wait to read it!!!

[Shay]

Well the next part is just about done. I'll post it as soon as I read through it a few times to check for errors.

[silentdreamer789]

his head snapped forward again, the wet, spraying sneeze caught in a now sodden handkerchief.

Yummy! This is soooo good. A massive Mulder sneezing fit! Wow.

[Cloud Dancing]

*squeeling* Now this is what I call a find...have been away from the forum for ages but this just warms my heart Its sooooo wonderful good im blatently going to dream about it. Sorry to gush but always has a soft spot for the fuzzy haired FBI agent

Thankyou!

X

[krazykat]

*squeeling* Now this is what I call a find...have been away from the forum for ages but this just warms my heart Its sooooo wonderful good im blatently going to dream about it. Sorry to gush but always has a soft spot for the fuzzy haired FBI agent

Thankyou!

X

I am nearly finished the next part, if you bear with me I will try and post it before the end of the night... she says looking at the clock and realising that it is in fact technically the next morning... oh well, god bless asthma for increasing productivity through reducing the desire to sleep!!