Mulder’s Purchase

Fox Mulder really *did* try to distance himself from the case file in front of him.  It was difficult.  Ginger Ann Lincoln.  Age thirteen.  Disappeared from her bedroom in the middle of the night.  Parents sleeping in the next room heard nothing.  <Samantha>  He tried to force the thought away. 

Mulder took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  As he looked up his eyes collided with the painting on the wall.  It was a picture of a beach at sunset.  The waves lapped gently against the perfect white sands.  Seabirds were frozen in their soaring motions against the multi-coloured sky.  Stars were just visible in the darkened section of the sky.  High cliffs hemmed in the small area of sand.  A white-washed beach house nestled at the base of the cliffs.  It was the only thing in the scene that wasn’t perfect but it’s beaten up nature only made it more appealing.  Mulder knew every inch of the painting, he’d spent a lot of time staring at it, but couldn’t figure out why he found it so hypnotic. 

Without hesitation, Mulder lay aside the troubling file – all the feelings associated with it – and went over to the picture.  He reached out his hand and moved it towards the painted surface.

**************************

Three days earlier.

Mulder’s first impression of Ginger Lincoln’s bedroom was pink.  Everything in the room was pink, lacy and feminine, from the bed covers, to the dresses visible through the half-open wardrobe door.  A parent’s dream of a little girl’s bedroom.

“My worst nightmare.”  The soft voice came from behind him and he turned to face Scully.  She gestured around the room and Mulder inclined his head curiously.  “I wanted blue and practical.  My parents gave me powder blue and lace.”  Scully mused, not looking at him, crossing to the vanity table.  “I thought about running away once too.” 

“Ginger Lincoln did not, necessarily, run away Scully.”  Mulder said softly and Scully turned back to face him.  She looked cautiously down the corridor, when she spoke her tone was low and confiding.

“Mulder, if you say *anything* about aliens to the girl’s parents then I’ll . .”

“Come on Scully.”  Mulder interrupted, speaking in the same tone.  “Ginger’s disappearance matches the profile.” 

“Mulder, I don’t care!”  Scully hissed back, as Ginger’s mother appeared in the doorway with a policeman. 

“Mrs. Lincoln?”  Mulder asked, pulling out his ID and showing it to her.  “I’m Special Agent Fox Mulder and this Agent Dana Scully.”

“What are the FBI doing here?”  A voice asked from just beyond Mrs. Lincoln and a man stepped up behind her.

“Mr. Lincoln?”  Scully asked and the man nodded. 

“This case is similar to several others that we’re investigating.  We’re trying to establish if there’s any connection.”  Mulder informed him.

“How can there be a connection?”  Mrs. Lincoln asked softly.  Scully noticed that her green eyes were ringed in red from crying, she still had a tissue clutched in her slightly shaking hand.  “Ginger ran away.”  She looked up at her husband for encouragement.

“Why do you believe that your daughter ran away?”  Scully asked her gently and the woman shook her head, tears beginning to flow from her eyes.  Mr. Lincoln placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her into his embrace.

“My daughter insisted on hanging around with a crowd that we didn’t approve of.  I’d say that they talked her into running off.”  He answered.  Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. 

“What ‘crowd’ exactly?”  Mulder asked.

“The ruffians down at that video arcade!”  Mrs. Lincoln spat with venom.  Mulder looked over at Scully and she saw that he was fighting back a smile. 

“What do you remember about the night that Ginger disappeared?”  Scully asked.

“She went to bed at 7:30, we have very strict rules in this house.”  Mrs. Lincoln began.  “We always go to bed at exactly nine.  In the morning I came in at seven to wake her up and she was gone.” 

“And what made you think that she’d run away?”  Mulder asked.  Mrs. Lincoln looked sadly up at her husband.  He drew a deep breath and looked steadily at Mulder.

“We’ve been having some problems lately and she’d threatened to run away.”

“But you didn’t find any *evidence* that she’d run away?  No notes or pillows piled under the sheets?”  Mulder questioned.

“There *is* the fact that she’s not here!”  Lincoln exclaimed indignantly. 

“What exactly do you suspect happened to my daughter Agent Mulder?”  Mrs. Lincoln asked suddenly.  Scully saw Mulder open his mouth and spoke quickly, before he had a chance to.

“We’re just examining all the possibilities Mrs. Lincoln, Mr. Lincoln.”  Scully reassured her, holding out her hands in a calming fashion, whilst casting a warning glance at Mulder.  He looked steadily back at her but said nothing.  His gaze shifted to the wall above her head and his look became so intent that Scully turned to see what he was staring at.  It was a painting.  The colourful surrealist impression of a video arcade was incongruous in the context of the pink, feminine room.  Primary colours were splashed in vivid patterns of light and shade.  Scully hated it on sight. 

“Isn’t it horrible!”  Mrs. Lincoln interjected suddenly.  “Ginger brought it home one day last week and insisted on putting on the wall.” 

“Last week?”  Mulder asked, still fascinated. 

“Yes, she bought it from a junk shop on Zirconia Avenue.”

“Well, thank you for co-operating.”  Scully said to the Lincoln’s, whilst trying to usher Mulder out of the room.  He remained intent on the picture for a moment, then switched his attention to the Lincoln’s. 

“We’ll do all we can to find your daughter.”  He told them sincerely.  Mulder and Scully left the room. 

*************************

Outside, they walked in perfect unison, dropping into their car seats at the exact same moment.  If either of them noticed the synchronicity of the action, then they didn’t say so. 

“Where now?”  Scully asked as Mulder started the engine. 

“Well I assumed that you’d want to go straight back to the office since there’s no case here.”  Mulder said expressionlessly.  There was silence for a moment as Scully contemplated his statement.

“What’s the deal Mulder?”  Scully queried warily.

“No deal.”  He shrugged, as he pulled off from the kerb.  “You were the one that said Ginger just ran away, right?  Maybe I’m agreeing with you.”

“ ‘Maybe’ being the right word.”  Scully muttered.  “What game are you playing?  You promised the Lincoln’s that we’d find their daughter.  You’re not just giving up on this. I know you too well to believe that.” 

“Just how well do you think you know me Scully?”  He asked with a teasing grin.  Scully thought for a moment and answered him seriously.

“As much as you’ll let anyone.”  She said softly.

All the power of Mulder’s microscopically intense eyes locked onto hers.  A torrent of emotion flowed between them in that instant.  It could only have been for seconds but it felt like hours.  Scully looked away first.

“Okay Scully.” Mulder said seriously after a moment of uneasy silence.  “I was thinking that you could go and check out Ginger’s friends. See what you can find out from them.”

“Fine, I know how you are with kids that age.”  Scully remarked absently.  “What are *you* gonna do?” 

“What do you mean ‘with kids that age’?”  Mulder asked indignantly.

“Nothing Mulder.”  She dismissed it, not looking at him.

“No Scully.  What did you mean?”  He insisted.

“Just that, sometimes, you seem ‘awkward’,”  She chose the word carefully. “being with them.” 

“When?” 

“It’s just an impression I get Mulder.”  She still didn’t look at him.

“It’s a wrong one.  I love kids.  I’d love to have a whole heap of them.”  He said sincerely.

“Really?”  She asked in surprise, looking over. 

“Yeah.”  He grinned at her.  “For dinner.  They’re great lightly fried, with a sharks fin soup starter.”

“Mulder!”  Scully exclaimed – she very nearly laughed.

*************************

A small bell tinkled as Mulder opened the door to the junk shop.  The inside was dark and musty.  Objects were arranged haphazardly on shelves with layers of inch-thick dust on them.  The main items in the shop were  paintings, all shapes and sizes.  There wasn’t another person in sight. 

“Hello?”  He called and there was a sound of movement from out the back of the shop.  An old man came out from behind a tattered curtain.  Mulder could have sworn that the man smiled a knowing smile when he saw him, but in an instant it was gone.  Mulder walked up to the dusty counter, drawing out his ID as he went.  “Hi, I’m Agent Mulder, I’m with the FBI.”  The man didn’t look at the badge, he just nodded. 

“What is it you are looking for FBI-man?”  The old man asked softly and stared at him intently.  Mulder felt as if the man was looking into his very soul and his skin prickled with an odd sense of foreboding.  “Ah, a lost loved one.”  The man said, as if he’d suddenly seen something.

“Actually I’m looking for a lost teenager.”  Mulder drew out the photograph of Ginger Lincoln that he’d acquired.  “This girl.”  He showed the man the picture.  “She came in here a few days ago and bought a painting.  Do you remember her?”  The man nodded sadly.

“Oh yes, she was in great pain.”  He sighed.  “So much pain for one so young.”  He stared directly at Mulder and his throat dried up.  Unbidden the picture of himself in the weeks following Samantha’s disappearance came to his mind.  “I have just the thing for you.”  The man said with a smile and moved to one of the shelves.  He removed a framed painting, dusted if off with his sleeve and handed it to Mulder. 

Mulder took the picture warily, but the wariness vanished when he looked down at it.  He found himself looking at the most beautiful beach scene.  It was so exquisitely painted that the birds seemed to swoop through the heavens.  The waves seemed to roll and crash upon the shoreline.  He could almost hear the sound of the breakers and feel the bracing salt air on his face. 

“Isn’t it lovely.”  The old man said from a long distance away.  “You could almost lose yourself on that beach.  Forget all your worries and all your struggles.  Peaceful.  Safe.”  The words were hypnotic and Mulder felt himself sinking. 

The picture was suddenly snatched out of his hands and he was rudely jolted back to reality. 

“$29.95.”  The old man informed him. 

“That’s cheap for a painting like this.”  Mulder remarked as, without thinking about why, he pulled out his wallet.       

“The price always depends on the customer.”

“Not a good way to make a living.”  He handed over the money. 

“It’s the only way.”  The old man said, handing him the picture in return.  He turned to head back through the curtain. 

“Wait, have you seen the girl?”  Mulder called out. 

“Ginger is safe Fox.  Dana will find her.”  The man disappeared out the back, leaving Mulder standing alone with the painting in his hands.  He hadn’t told the old man his first name and how did he know Scully?  

Mulder followed the man through the curtain with a million questions on his lips.  He found himself standing in the street in front of the shop.  The sign on the door now said ‘Closed’ and the door itself was locked.  He thought about busting the lock open, but reality prevailed.  Mulder swore silently and kicked an empty coke can out of his way as he headed back to his car.

*************************

Two days later

Fox Mulder really *did* try to distance himself from the case file in front of him.  It was difficult.  <Samantha>  He tried to force the thought away.  Mulder took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  As he looked up his eyes collided with the picture on the wall. Without hesitation, Mulder lay aside the troubling file – all the feelings associated with it – and went over to the picture.  He reached out his hand and moved it towards the painted surface.

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