Title: The Hap-Happiest Season of All Author: mimic117 Email: mimic1172@gmail.com Rating: PG-13 to R Category: S, H, slight A, possibly-believable fanfic trope, casefile-lite, Agents In Action Timeline: Set season 7-ish. M&S were totally doing each other at that point and I'm ignoring everything that came after it. Summary: This was never part of Mulder's holiday plans. Keywords: MSR, sequel to my own story "Unfolding" You probably should read that one first or you won't know who Uncle Chaim is. Archive: Please do if you feel so inclined. I'll send it to Gossamer and Ephemeral myself. Disclaimer: All XF characters belong to 1013. Any original characters belong to me. Beta thanks to Take Walker for going over the first section at the last minute. This story was written for Amal Nahurriyeh for the 2010 XF_Santa challenge. Sadly, it wasn't finished in time and has been sitting here for the past five years, waiting. The first half was posted back then, but this copy contains the rest of it too. I hope it is entertaining, if rather tardy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Town Center at Boca Raton Boca Raton, Florida Dec. 20 2:43 PM Mulder sneaked a look at his watch just as another red- velvet-gowned baby plopped into his lap. This one was already screaming. Most of them waited until they'd at least seen the bushy white beard and fake smile. Way to be proactive, kid. He looked up as Scully leaned close, ostensibly settling the child in his lap. "Watch yourself," she murmured. "I think her diaper has hit critical mass." Mulder sighed. Another one? Scully continued, "All stations report clear. No sign of our suspect yet." Mulder grabbed one of the baby's arms and a flailing, chubby leg in an attempt to keep her seated while still avoiding the warm wetness he could feel soaking into his thigh. His clothes were going to smell like he'd slept in a nest of winos if he got too many more leakers. The little girl belted out a fresh scream, arched her back and slid down his lap. He unobtrusively dragged her into place. A bright light flashed in his eyes. Not content with the mall's professional digital photography, Mom had brought a camera, too. Mulder blinked at the flaring dots of brightness in front of him. Ho ho ho, only forty-five minutes to go. A pair of hands lifted the still-shrieking baby from Mulder's left side a split second before a large, well-fed boy executed a flying leap from the right onto the same spot. Mulder barely managed to clap a protective hand over his crotch in time, then swallowed a massive string of expletives as his knees buckled in pain. If he'd really been Santa, this kid would be getting a stocking full of palmetto beetles for Christmas. Playing shopping mall Santa was never a part of the plan after their last case collapsed. Their investigation into rumors of a "gator man" in Ocala National Forest would have been considered a failure even if he hadn't toppled out of the boat and into the swamp. Apparently the rumor was more of a prank by a group of local teens, putting one over on the tourists. Mulder helped to salvage his pride a little by stumbling across a meth lab the locals had been hunting for months. He was fleeing from a water snake at the time, but it still counted. Skinner had given them the rest of the week off, which made four days total with the weekend, but Mulder wasn't sure if it was a reward for good work or because Skinner could smell the swamp- funk over the phone. Scully had certainly complained about it enough. The Flying Wallenda kid finally stopped rattling off his wish list and jumped down as enthusiastically as he'd jumped on, jamming Mulder's knees downward in the process. He was going to end up medically unfit for field work if he got any more kids like that. Scully handed him another infant. Red velvet suit this time, so it must be a boy. A drooler. Spit strings hung from the baby's chin as he frantically gnawed on the fist in his mouth. Every child he'd seen under the age of two leaked from one end or the other. Somebody was producing rugrats with defective gaskets. Mulder snuck another look at his watch. Only thirty-five minutes left. How time flies. He and Scully were supposed to be visiting with Mulder's great-uncle Chaim at his new retirement home in Boca right about now. Instead, he was simultaneously holding onto a squirming child and trying to keep his eyes open for a child abductor scoping out the line of kids. With the sheer number of gawkers outside the ropes, it was like looking for the sixpence in a Christmas pudding. This was all Scully's fault, although Mulder really couldn't hold it against her. When they'd checked in at the Ocala field office before leaving the area, all anyone could talk about was the abductions. Three children taken from Santa-booth lines in malls during the past three weeks, all within Palm Beach County. Each child had been released a day or so later, seemingly unharmed, but scrubbed clean and in new clothes. Forensic evidence was almost non-existent and there were no indications of molestation, which was somewhat comforting, if unexpected. Consensus favored someone taking pictures to sell online to pedophiles, and Mulder had to agree. Local law enforcement had asked for federal help to cover as many locations as possible during the final week of the Christmas-shopping frenzy. When Ocala's SAC heard that Mulder and Scully were going to Boca Raton, in the heart of the targeted county, he'd put in a call to headquarters. Ebenezer Skinner revoked their leave but it was Scully who enthusiastically agreed to the assignment. Like there weren't plenty of field office agents who could handle a little undercover yuletide caper. Mulder had already been making plans for communal showers, cool drinks on the beach, and as little clothing as possible when Skinner snatched back their treat. "As long as you're in the area already..." Translation: somewhere within the state borders. Sure, it was only the one day, and only a few hours of that day, and it was in a good cause, but it was the principle of the thing and if they'd been in DC they wouldn't have been called in to help and besides, Mulder had other plans. Scully made an awfully cute elf, though. Mulder watched as she lifted the baby from his arms. The green felt tunic and Robin Hood-style hat set off his partner's hair and eyes, but Mulder liked the curly-toed shoes best. Rather than a wiggle in her walk, Scully jingled. His initial smirk when he first saw her in the outfit produced a quelling glare, but that didn't stop Mulder from grinning when her back was turned. For a while, anyway. He'd pretty much lost the will to grin about an hour ago. The velvet-clad drooler was replaced by a glowering early-adolescent, arms crossed and obviously disinclined to sit on Santa's lap. Mulder gave a half-hearted "Ho ho ho, what would you like this year?" and got an eye-roll in return. Sure, fine, whatever kid. Get your picture taken and shove off. Mulder peeked at his watch as the kid snatched a candy cane out of Scully's hand and stomped off. Twenty-three minutes, but who was counting? They were meeting Chaim in the mall food court at four o'clock. If anyone actually relieved them at 3:30, as promised, they would have half an hour to shuck the festive duds and get back into something normal. Scully hadn't complained about the stiff elf costume, but Santa's beard was heavy, hot, and itchy as hell. Mulder now understood why guys who did this every year grew their own. Scully reappeared with two toddlers in tow, one crying and the other one pulling backwards, sneaker heels squeaking as they skidded across the floor. Mommy and Daddy cooed in the background, completely oblivious to their darlings' trauma masquerading as holiday cheer. Mulder took the screamer as Scully donkey-hauled the reluctant sibling within arm's reach. Andy Willims sang about "the most wonderful time of year" in a teeth-achingly chipper tone, barely audible over the cacophony of the mall multitudes. Mulder sighed again. The happiest season of all, my arse. Ho ho hmph. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Food Court 4:14 PM Their Santa-booth relief arrived right on time, but not a second too soon for Mulder. They'd hustled back to the staging area and quickly changed into lightweight clothes, in deference to the mid-seventies temperatures outside. In spite of the seasonal costumes and the holiday music blaring, wearing jeans and a light dress shirt made him feel less than festive. Scully had checked in with the SAC by phone, and then they waded through the crowded aisles to one of the only open tables in the food court where Mulder periodically defended the empty chairs at their table while Scully stood in line for food. So far, the SAC said, all the eager (and not so eager) Santa visitors at the various malls were accounted for, but Mulder had to agree with Scully that they hadn't wasted their time. A few days remained in the suspect's window of opportunity. With skilled observers in place and a little luck, there would be no more children abducted from Florida malls this year, and maybe they'd even shut down a child pornographer in the process. At least he and Scully had done their part to help out. Chaim was late, but with the size of the crowd it was probably too early to be concerned. He'd left a voice message on Mulder's cell an hour ago to say he was bringing a couple of friends, so Mulder had latched onto a large table rather than a four-seater. People seemed to consider it a personal affront that he was the only one currently using the space. The glares he'd gotten could have buried a stake of holly through his heart more than once. He'd thought the Santa booth was packed until they got to the food court. It was wall-to-wall people, all shoving, shouting, cranky, and infused with as much Christmas spirit as the Grinch. Scully volunteered to wade into the melee as a way of making up for getting them into it in the first place, but Mulder didn't envy her the experience. A large, loud, gesticulating man directly behind Scully was holding forth on the slowness of the harried fast-food workers. Mulder watched as his partner nonchalantly stepped backward in her chunky heels, right onto Mr. Whirling-Arms' instep. The loudness continued in a higher octave. Mulder grinned as Scully apologized profusely, waves of contrition engulfing everyone around her, but he knew she'd done it on purpose, and when she caught his eye before turning around again, he could tell she knew that he knew. She'd even given him half a wink. A commotion near the entry doors caught his attention. People were jumping in different directions as if they'd been shocked. Mulder wondered if he should check it out, but before he could rise from his seat, the crowd parted, giving him a clear view of the disturbance. At first Mulder thought it was his great-uncle, until he realized the elderly man was much too tall. And completely bald, despite an enormous gray walrus moustache. Plus he was walking with a rather long cane, which he periodically jabbed at the people nearby. Every time the cane was raised, another person leapt to one side. It reminded Mulder of spawning salmon jumping out of the water on their way upstream. The fish probably weren't being prodded by an old codger with a stick though. As the man with the cane got closer, Mulder could see his great-uncle and another elderly man trailing along behind. Apparently The Jabber was acting as point man. Mulder wished he and Scully had thought of something like that when they were trying to reach the food court. It might have been worth an injury just so he could have a cane to clear the path. Mulder pulled out his cell phone and hit number one. "Scully." "Turn around and take a look at Chaim and his entourage," Mulder said. He watched her swivel in place and stretch on tip-toe, head craning. "Where? I don't see him." "Look over toward the doors. It's like the parting of the Red Sea." A soft snort reached his ear. "That must be one of his new friends at the retirement village," Scully observed. "Five dollars says he's the ex-cop from Cleveland." Mulder turned back to check him out again. Ever since Chaim showed up at Mulder's apartment on his way to Florida a few months ago, Scully had kept in touch. She called him every couple of weeks just to talk, like she'd adopted him as her own Jewish great-uncle. Mulder talked to Chaim on a regular basis too, but Scully got all the juicy gossip and scandals of the senior set. Mulder was more than willing to accept her assessment of The Jabber, especially after he got another look at Chaim's point man. Tall, slim, with a wrinkled face that looked like it had spent a lot of time in the elements, but close to ramrod straight, considering the cane and normal ravages of time. "Sucker bet, Scully," Mulder replied. "The guy has to be over eighty and still screams law enforcement. Skinner will probably look like that in thirty years." Scully snickered. "If he gets rid of all that muscle first," she said. "Look, there are at least three people in front of me. When they finally reach you, see if they want something to eat so they don't have to stand in line. Call me with their order and tell Uncle Chaim I'll try to make sure it's kosher." She hung up without waiting for his answer. Mulder put his phone away, then stood so his uncle would be able to see him. A family of four swooped in and started putting food trays on the table. "Sorry," Mulder said, "but we're still using this table." "What do you mean 'we'?" The chubby male member of the group was clearly winding up toward indignant. His jowls wobbled as he continued, "There's just you here. One person shouldn't be allowed to use a large table when other people need it. You stood up to leave. We're taking the table now." The man wasn't much taller than Scully, so Mulder had to give him points for chutzpah. The guy didn't appear the least bit intimidated by Mulder towering over him. In fact, there was a distinct sense of potential tantrum-pitching if he didn't get his way. If that happened, Scully would probably come over to find out was going on and she'd lose her place in line. Diplomacy was needed to avoid any further delays in feeding Mulder's growling stomach. He smiled ingratiatingly. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. My friend is standing in line and the rest of our party has just arrived." He pointed to the three elderly men finally making their way to where he stood. The Jabber waved his cane at the encroaching family group and called out, "Do you require assistance to repel boarders?" His voice was rather high-pitched for such a tall man. Mulder shook his head. "Thank you, but they were just leaving." He stared down at the chubby intruder, eyebrows raised. The other man quivered with impotent anger, but he snatched up the tray he'd set on the table, then turned away as the rest of his family followed suit. A group of people at another table nearby stood and the hungry family fell upon the open space without a backward glance. Chaim approached with arms open, eyes twinkling behind thick spectacles. Mulder gathered the elderly man into a bear hug and patted his back. He smelled like countless childhood summers filled with baking and spices and laughter. He caught a whiff of Great-aunt Rifka's matzo ball soup, cheese blintzes, and latkes. Or maybe Mulder's hunger was contributing olfactory memories. He suddenly regretted the lack of a Jewish deli in the mall. He had a real craving for something nostalgic. They straightened up, holding each other at arm's length and grinning. Chaim looked over his shoulder at the other men with him. "This is my shaygets great-nephew, Fox Mulder, the big Special Agent I told you about." His friends stepped forward. "This is Ed Kajewski"– he indicated The Jabber –"and that's Myron Fink. I've told them a little about you so they wanted to see if I was fibbing maybe." Ed shook Mulder's hand. "I've read about some of the work you do. A friend of mine was involved in the Virgil Incanto case. Not exactly main-stream, are you?" Two points to Scully. This guy was definitely their ex-cop from Cleveland. Mulder shrugged. "It's a living and it's never boring." He turned to shake Myron's hand. The man was shorter and wirier than Chaim, possibly a bit younger as well. He had a round, almost cherubic face, with bright blue eyes that seemed a bit unfocused. Myron smiled but didn't say anything. Mulder looked at his uncle inquiringly. Chaim stepped closer and shouted, "Myron, this is my nephew." "Okay," Myron replied. He blinked and kept smiling. Chaim sniffed. "Don't pay any attention to him. Too many years on big tractors before he sold the farm to a housing developer. He can't hear so good and won't wear the hearing aids. So we shout or ignore him. He doesn't mind." He stepped back and looked behind Mulder, then to either side. Chaim frowned. "Where is Dana, Foxcilla? She is here with you. No?" "Yeah, she's here." Mulder peered around the never- ending crowd of milling people until he recognized the back of his partner's head. She was next in line to order. "Listen, I hate to be abrupt but she's just about to get us some food from the sandwich shop. If anybody's hungry, now's the time to speak up." "I could eat," Chaim said. "I know that sandwich place. A bagel and lox with schmeer would go down nicely. You feel like a nosh, Ed?" "Black coffee and one of their giant chocolate chip cookies would be enough." Ed lowered himself into one of the chairs, using the cane as a brace. Mulder turned to the third man and tried to speak up without yelling. "Myron, what can we get for you?" Myron smiled and nodded. Chaim threw up his hands. "Oy! Just get him a tuna on wheat with mayo, lettuce, and tomato. It's the same thing he always orders. He'll be happy." He dug into a trouser pocket. "How much, do you think? I have some gelt --" Mulder waved him off. "We've got it covered, thanks. You three stay here and guard the table with your lives. We'll be right back." He charged off into the crowd as fast as feasible. He could have called Scully's phone, but with the extra food she was going to need more hands to carry everything as well. Scully was winding up their order when Mulder skidded to a stop next to her. He ignored the mutters behind them and placed the additional orders, adding a couple of sodas to be on the safe side. The concentrated food odors at the counter were making Mulder's mouth water so much he didn't dare open it for fear of spitting. He'd been in that Santa booth for hours and missed lunch. His stomach was just about ready to crawl out and find a more hospitable body, like Lanny's parasitic brother at that circus performers' settlement. When they got back to the table, Mulder quickly sorted out the meals on his tray to their correct owners. Chaim took the tray of food from Scully's hands, set it on the table, then pulled her into a hug. "There's my bubbula! I thought he left you back at the hotel, maybe." Scully leaned away and smiled. "He'd better not try. It's good to see you, Uncle Chaim. How are you?" "I kvetch to hear myself talk mostly. I really can't complain." Ed laughed. "Except you do, constantly, about everything and nothing." Mulder dug into his food as Chaim gallantly seated Scully and introduced her to the other men. Mulder got a real kick out of watching his partner in these non-work-related situations. They usually didn't have much time to socialize, which was why he'd been so intent on making their mini vacation fun for her. She seemed to be enjoying herself at the moment, judging by the chipmunk-cheeked grin on her face, so maybe there was still hope. She and Chaim chattered at each other as if they didn't spend an hour on the phone every time she called. Mulder knew for a fact that they'd talked at least five times over a couple of days, arranging their visit to Florida and then changing those plans at the last minute after Skinner Scrooged them. Mulder resigned himself to one less day with his great- uncle, but Chaim insisted "You're being a nudnik. And besides, I might like to get away from some of these zeydes for a couple hours. Nu?" Watching Scully as she listened to Ed, laughed at Chaim, and tried to coax speech from Myron (the man's face muscles had to hurt from smiling), Mulder decided his uncle was right. Nothing was more important than getting together with family or friends, even if it meant meeting up in the mall. They still had the rest of the evening together and then tomorrow they were taking lunch to the beach. Chaim said it wasn't much like summers at Coney Island but at least it was the same ocean. A movement in Mulder's peripheral vision made him look up. Chaim was waving at his great-nephew's meal but talking to Scully. "He still doesn't listen to you, eating all that chazerei, does he?" Mulder was caught with a mouthful of soda and nearly snorted it out his nose before he could swallow. "Hey! This isn't junk food. I got a healthy turkey sandwich with plenty of veggies." "Uh huh." Scully rolled her eyes at Chaim. "Plus ranch dressing, extra mayo, and deep-fried onion rings." They shook their heads at each other in commiseration. "He should weigh three hundred pounds, the way he eats," Chaim said. "I know," Scully replied. "It's just not fair, is it?" The smirks they exchanged were so alike she could have been Chaim's blood relative, except for the red hair and normal-sized nose. Mulder pointed at Chaim's bagel and cream cheese. "I'll have you know my sandwich probably has less fat than that." Chaim shrugged. "At my age, I have enough years left that I should watch what I eat now? Besides, lox is fish and fish is good for you." Ed gave out a whinnying laugh, Myron nodded, and Scully's lips clamped tightly together, but her eyes sparkled. The sparkle dimmed and her lips pursed into a moue as she fished a ringing cell phone from her purse. "Scully." She stuck a finger in her other ear and listened. The piped-in holiday music abruptly stopped. Over the sound of people talking, eating, trays clanking, a single voice could be heard. "This is a Code Adam alert. I repeat, this is a Code Adam alert. Please be on the lookout for a child wearing the following clothing...." In the spreading silence of the food court, Mulder's cell phone rang. He was already scanning the passing diners as he pulled the phone from his jeans pocket. "Mulder." "This is Special Agent Steve Bradley, calling on behalf of SAC Lewis. We have a Code Adam in progress. All personnel in the vicinity are being deployed. Are you still in the mall?" "Agent Scully and I are in the food court." Mulder looked across the table at his partner, who was still on her own phone. "We're listening to the announcement right now." Pink-and-white striped jersey skirt, pink Lilo and Stitch scoop-necked top, pink tights, glittery pink tennis shoes. Three years old. Obviously a girl. No male child would wear that much pink. Not when they were still being dressed by their mother, anyway. "Good," Bradley replied. "We can use you in that area. Cover the food court and the stores down the aisle to the main concourse. Are you carrying a firearm?" Mulder glanced down toward his sneakers. "I don't have my service revolver, but I'm packing mini heat in an ankle holster." Don't leave home without it, even if you're only going to the mall. "Orders are to avoid drawing your weapon at all costs. We don't know if the suspect is armed but we can't take any chances on hitting a bystander." "Understood." As he scanned the wandering masses, Mulder agreed with the decision. Simply showing a gun in such a large crowd was likely to cause a deadly stampede. "How far are we into the Code Adam protocol?" "With local law enforcement already here, we locked down the entire mall as soon as the child was confirmed missing. Boca PD put out a call for off-duty personnel to assist but no one else goes in or out until we find her." Mulder nodded, even though Bradley couldn't see him. Since they'd been anticipating this kind of event, there really was no need to wait the usual ten minutes while the area was searched. Immediate lockdown meant he and Scully wouldn't have to worry about keeping an eye on the multitude of exits near the food court. Anyone trying to go out would be stopped by someone else stationed at the doors. "Do we have any description of the perp yet?" he asked. "Anything at all?" So far the packed malls had worked to the guy's advantage. No one in the children's families had seen anything and if anyone else did, they'd only been passing by and hadn't come forward. The child was always returned to the same mall, just left on a bench or in the kids' play area. No one had noticed anything then, either. Any clue would help. "Sandy hair, average height, nothing distinguishing," Bradley replied. "The girl was taken from the main concourse rather than a store, and the parents noticed so quickly there were still other people around who'd seen him." "Well, it's not much," Mulder said, "but it's more than we had before. A couple suggestions." "Go ahead." "Whether this guy is our serial perp or not, if he heard the alert he's going to be in a panic. Any police backup should come plain-clothed. A sudden blue tide sweeping the mall could push him past panic." "Got it," Bradley replied. "What else?" "This guy's resourceful. He could try to change the girl's clothing or cover it up with a jacket. That second possibility will stand out, considering the warm temperature. Everyone should observe outside the box, and don't be surprised if he does something unexpected. I'm betting he's jumpy right now." "Agreed. I'll pass your recommendations on to the SAC and BRPD." Agent Bradley gave him a contact number and told him to report back if they found anything. Mulder automatically continued to check out the crowds as he put his cell phone away. This would be tricky. The noise was already back to deafening pre-alert levels. Everyone had paused to listen while the announcement played, then put it from their minds. It was festivities-as-usual for everybody but one worried family and the law enforcement personnel trying to help them. Scully reached across the table and tapped his hand. He glanced at her momentarily but she was searching the crowd behind him, just as he had been checking over her shoulder, cataloging and inspecting every child within view. For a winter holiday, there was an awful lot of pink in evidence. Even the smallest patches of it leapt out at him, now that his mind was suddenly tuned to it. "Let's start with the restrooms attached to this area," Scully said. He nodded, weaving their fingers together but keeping his gaze on the people passing by. "Should we split up after that, or wander around together?" "Split up, but keep your phone handy. We can cover more ground that way. Check with the food vendors, the play area, all the store clerks. I'll take the Subway side of the aisle, you take the Dairy Queen side, then meet back here." "Gotcha." Mulder reluctantly let go of her hand as they both stood. "Vus machs da?" Chaim looked up at them with a puzzled expression. Mulder had been so focused on the task at hand, he'd forgotten about Chaim and the others. He opened his mouth to explain but Ed spoke up first. "They're helping with those Santa Snatcher child abductions." He looked up at Mulder. "Right?" "Right. How did you --?" Ed shrugged. "Once a cop... I have friends in the Boca PD. I like to know what's going on locally." "Of course." Mulder realized he shouldn't have had to ask. "Look, I hate to do this but we need to leave for a bit. We'll come back for you when things are resolved but it may take a while." Chaim put a hand on Mulder's arm before he could move away. "Is there anything we can do to help find this schmuck?" Mulder yelped an emphatic "NO" at the same instant Scully said "Yes." He raised his eyebrows at her but she ignored him, speaking to their three companions instead. "You can be an extra set of eyes for us, as long as you stay right here. You heard the child's description?" Chaim and Ed nodded. She continued. "Share it with Myron. The suspect is sandy-haired and average height. Not much to go on but it could help us when combined with the child's information." Scully directed her next question at Chaim. "Did you bring your cell phone?" Chaim pulled a chunky black object from a holder on his belt and held it up. The white buttons were as big as an average fingertip. Mulder blinked. "*That's* a cell phone? It has to be close to ten years old. Does it still work?" "Of course it works!" Chaim huffed. "It may not be fancy- schmancy, but it gets calls, it makes calls. That's all I need. I should throw it away just because it's old?" Scully waved them both to silence before Mulder could answer. "Let's not get into one of your endless arguments. The phone is fine, Uncle Chaim. Do you have our numbers saved in it?" "Shoo shoo," he said. "It saves numbers, too." "Good. If you see anything, call one of us, but do NOT try to get involved. Understood?" She raised an eyebrow. Myron had been swiveling his head from one speaker to the next ever since Mulder and Scully stood. Now, he held up a hand. "Hang on," he said. Myron reached into a pants pocket and fished out a lump of plastic. He wiggled it into his right ear. Then he fished out another lump and stuck that in his other ear. "What's going on?" Chaim snorted. "You had the hearing aids with you all this time? Why didn't you put them in before so we wouldn't have to yell?" Myron shrugged. "They magnify all sounds, not just the ones I want to hear. It can be noisy, especially in crowds. Without the aids, my mind still hears the wind blowing through the corn and birds singing in the fields. Besides, it gives you something to yell about and I know how much you like to yell." He grinned and Mulder marveled at the change in his appearance. Myron Fink suddenly looked like a mischievous leprechaun rather than a half-witted old geezer. Mulder grinned back. "Ed will have to explain it to you. Scully and I need to leave for a bit. Sit tight. We'll be back as soon as we can." He glared pointedly at his great-uncle. This was no time for the kind of shenanigans he'd pulled at the bank the last time they were together. Chaim rolled his eyes. "All right already! I got it. We'll stay here and schmooze until you get back or we fall asleep from boredom. Now go, boychick. Don't worry about us." Scully picked up some of the wrappers from their table, as if she were simply cleaning up. Mulder followed her to the trash can with a few more items, then placed his hand on her lower back as they walked to the restrooms off to one side of the food court. They split up, and Mulder entered the men's room. There was one other man at the urinals. Mulder sidled up to a urinal one space away and unzipped. Might as well make it look like just another trip to the can. He was saved from trying to force it by the other guy zipping up and heading out. Without washing his hands. Eww. Mulder quickly zipped again and checked the stalls. No feet visible underneath, no one inside when he pushed the doors open. No pink clothing left behind. The men's room was clear. He met Scully outside the women's restroom. "Okay?" She nodded. "Yep. Let's go talk to the vendors. Call if you find anything." Mulder dug out his badge as he headed toward Panda Express. Showtime! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 15 minutes later There were only six stores on either side of the aisle, but canvassing was slow because everyone wanted to talk about the Code Adam. All of the stores were small, none of them had restrooms (although a couple had dressing rooms) and none of the clerks had seen anyone who matched the child or the suspect. But they all wanted to waste time expressing their disgust at the perp and pride in the people helping to catch him. At length. Mulder liked praise as much as the next person but this wasn't the right time and place. After a five minute delay at the second store, he'd resorted to rudeness in order to move faster. He was finally done with his stores and could see Scully finishing up across the way. They met in the middle of the aisle, still scanning the passing crowds. "Anything?" he asked. "Bupkes." Mulder grinned. "Chaim's starting to rub off on you, isn't he?" She rolled her eyes at him. "Now what? I haven't heard any updates from Lewis yet. Another circuit through the food court?" "Might as well. Either he managed to get outside before the lockdown or he's still here somewhere. I couldn't keep a constant watch on the people outside the stores while I was inside so he may have wandered past us. We should probably take another look, just to be sure." He'd already turned to head back toward the food court when a firm grip on his arm stopped him. Mulder looked down at Scully, but she was staring out into the main concourse. "Mulder," she murmured, "does that look like...?" "Where?" he asked, but as soon as he followed her line of sight, he knew exactly who she meant. Average-height guy, sandy hair, non-descript features, holding a squirming child. Her shirt was pale pink, possibly inside out, and the striped skirt was missing but the sparkly pink sneakers were a dead giveaway. The man was on the other side of the concourse, walking toward them. His eyes darted left and right, as if in search of something. Like a way out, maybe. "Yeah, Scully. Good catch." Mulder heard his partner pull out her cell phone as he watched their suspect approach. It was obvious to Mulder that the guy had heard the Code Adam and wasn't thinking straight. Otherwise he probably would have just dumped the little girl and waited for the alert to end. But instead he'd freaked out and that could mean trouble if they didn't play this right. "Boca police are on their way," Scully said. "Should we try to affect an arrest or follow him?" "Let's follow for a bit, see if we can get closer without spooking him. I'd like to keep him from using the baby as a shield." The man continued walking toward them, moving closer to the food court, and passing Mulder without taking any notice of him or attracting attention from the crowd. He kept a solid grip on the little girl without paying attention to her struggles, appearing to all the world like a normally- harried father. Mulder motioned for Scully to go first. He could see over her head well enough to tell that the suspect was walking toward the restrooms. They followed as closely as they could without making their pursuit obvious. They were halfway down the aisle before Scully voiced the same thought in Mulder's head. "They were calling in more officers," she murmured. "Where's the back-up?" Her question became moot when the suspect suddenly looked over his shoulder and caught Mulder's eye. The man froze. "Dammit, he's made us," Mulder muttered. "Quick, look lost. Ask him for directions." Scully flipped open her cell phone, as though she was going to make a call, then changed her mind. She held up a hand and approached the man, a smile in her voice as she said, "Excuse me." The suspect's eyes flicked from her to Mulder and back. He waited as they drew closer. Scully turned sideways, including Mulder with a glance. "Could you tell us where you got your little girl's shoes? We wanted something just like that for our niece but we're not having any luck." The man looked at Mulder again, then back to Scully. "I, uh, don't um..." The crying child strained toward Scully, beseeching hands opening and closing, hiccupping sobs muddling whatever she was trying to say. Scully cooed to the little girl, drawing the suspect's attention long enough for Mulder to sidle several inches nearer. When the man swiveled his head around again, Mulder was close enough to grab his arm. Then everything went to hell. Mulder watched Scully catch hold of the screaming baby suddenly thrust into her face. As his partner scrambled to get control of the child's flailing arms and legs, Mulder attempted to pull the suspect into an arm lock. He was having a harder time of it than Scully. The man fought like a wild thing, twisting and lunging in an attempt to break loose, never providing a stable spot for Mulder to grab hold with his other hand. Mulder managed to keep his grip on the arm currently in his possession, but at the cost of a wrenched shoulder. Every pirouette, dip, and dive of the captive took Mulder's arm along for the ride, whether it was supposed to bend that way or not. Mulder was about to try sweeping the guy's feet out from under him when he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. A *very* sharp pain. "GAH!" Mulder jumped back, loosening his grip on the suspect. They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other. When Mulder glanced down, he saw the handle of a small pocketknife buried to the hilt in his leg. The suspect jerked out of Mulder's hold and ran toward the food court. All of a sudden, Mulder found himself with a bundle of crying baby in his arms as Scully shoved the little girl at him and took off after the suspect. He clutched instinctively at the child, but the force of her arrival sent him staggering backward. Thankfully there was a wall only a couple steps away. Mulder slammed against it, then slid downward as his injured leg gave out. He juggled the girl into his lap, praying that she wouldn't land on the knife. Mulder could see through the gap in the crowd left by the fleeing suspect and his partner that the guy had almost made it to the end of the food court, shoving through the crowd, dodging around tables, chairs and annoyed diners. He was just passing Chaim's table, with Scully gaining on him, when Ed stuck his cane out right between the perp's churning legs. Down went the suspect, flat on his face. Scully pounced on his back. Cuffs twinkled in the bright food court lights, the delayed "snick snick" echoing back to Mulder a moment later. As Scully hauled the guy to his feet, the entire food court burst into applause. Movement in his arms reminded Mulder that he wasn't alone. The little girl had stopped shrieking and was vigorously sucking on three fingers instead. They stared at each other for a moment, then she smiled at him around her fingers. Mulder smiled back. He opened his mouth to ask if she was okay but was stopped by a tremendous whack on the side of his head. He looked up to find a tiny, white-haired woman swinging an enormous purse on a trajectory with his face. ~WHACK~ "Hey!" Mulder grabbed the purse strap and halted a third collision with his throbbing cheek. The little girl giggled. "Stop that! What do you think you're doing?" The elderly woman yanked back. "You let go of that precious child!" she shouted. "I heard the announcement. The police are looking for you. Kidnapper! Pervert! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She wrenched the purse out of his hands and hauled back for another shot. "I AM the police," Mulder yelled. "Fox Mulder, FBI. I'd show you my badge but I'm sitting on it." "That's a likely story!" ~WHACK~ The baby laughed uproariously, as only children can when faced with adult pain and humiliation. Mulder was saved from further assault by the arrival of the Cavalry, aka his partner, his great-uncle, and Chaim's entourage. Scully plucked the woman's purse out of her hand on the downswing. "Ma'am, it's okay," she said. "The girl's parents are on their way and we have the suspect in custody. This man is harmless. Mostly." Mulder glared at her but the baby chuckled, apparently finding their antics quite amusing. The elderly woman sniffed and snatched her purse back from Scully. "Well I'm sure he's no better than he should be," she muttered, then stomped off into the crowd without an apology. Mulder sighed in relief, but the sigh was replaced by another yelp when the little girl stepped on his stabbed thigh as she reached upward. Mommy and Daddy had arrived, along with about a million law enforcement from various branches. Someone hauled the child out of his grasp and the pain subsided to a dull ache. A large crowd of people milled around, some hugging the parents, others asking questions, some slapping each other on the back, many of them kicking the side of Mulder's leg as their feet shifted. Every impact sent a wave of agony through his thigh. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him, not even Scully, who was under earnest interrogation by at least three people. Mulder grabbed the closest Dockers-clad limb and wrapped his hand around the calf, sinking his fingertips into the muscle as hard as he could. The calf's owner jumped. "What the hell--" It was SAC Lewis. "Mulder, what are you doing down there?" Rather than answer, Mulder simply pointed to the knife handle. Lewis's eyes went wide. "Officer down!" he announced. "Why didn't you say something sooner?" "There hasn't been much of a chance," Mulder replied. "I don't think it's a big knife, but I'd still appreciate it if people would stop kicking me." "Everybody move back!" Lewis called. "Get some paramedics over here." That caught Scully's attention. "Wait a minute," she said to Lewis. "Paramedics for whom? The suspect was fine when I turned him over to Boca PD." The SAC indicated her partner. Mulder gave her a weak grin and waved. She sighed. "Oh Mulder..." Leaving her interrogators standing with their pens in the air, Scully squatted down next to Mulder's injured leg. "When did this happen?" "While I was trying to get a hold on the perp, right before he took off and you dumped the Pepto-Bismol Kid in my arms." He winced as she probed the jeans around the knife handle. "I wondered why you let go of him. I thought he tromped on your instep or something." "Or something," he said through gritted teeth as she hit an especially tender spot. "Quit messing around and yank it out." Scully sat back on her heels and shook her head. "It looks like the blade is only a couple inches long but he drove it in deep. It seems to be on an angle, thankfully, and it appears to have missed the bone but this is going to need stitches. Just sit tight until they get a stretcher in here." She stood up, dusted her hands together and admonished, "Don't let anybody touch anything without gloves. It's acting as a plug, which is why you're not bleeding out. The handle will have the perp's fingerprints all over it so we don't want to smudge those." "If some good Samaritan tries to un-skewer me I'll be sure to tell them. Thanks for the sympathy." Scully just rolled her eyes at him and returned to her interrogators. Mulder sagged back against the wall to wait. The legs of a chair squealed across the floor and stopped next to him, followed by a second chair on his other side, and then a third right in front of him. Mulder looked up as first Chaim, then Ed and finally Myron took seats around him, forming a codger protective zone. They probably wouldn't be much help in the event of another handbag assault but Mulder was touched, nonetheless. He reached a hand toward Ed. "Thanks for the back-up," he said. They shook hands and grinned at each other. "That was a nifty little move." "Once a cop..." Ed repeated. "I was glad to help without having to break a sweat for a change." "Mazel tov, Foxcilla!" Chaim exclaimed. "You got the rotten schmuck. So now what?" Before Mulder could point out that there'd been a change in plans thanks to the perp, a chunky, harried-looking woman in a food court uniform puffed to a stop outside the ring of chairs. "Y'all can't be draggin' the seats away when there's people needin' to sit," she said. "You gotta bring them chairs back to the tables right now." Chaim turned to her indignantly and gestured at Mulder. "Can't you see we're protecting an injured hero here? My great-nephew and his partner caught the baby snatcher! Let the man rest without being jostled by all the riff-raff." The woman shifted from foot to foot. "Well, I dunno about all that. I only know you gotta bring them chairs back." Mulder could see Chaim preparing to play the outraged- uncle card. He breathed a sigh of relief when Scully appeared behind the food court employee. "It's okay, ma'am," she said for at least the second time that day. She'd spent most of their stint in the mall soothing demanding parents, screaming children, and irate bystanders. She sounded tired. "I'll make sure the chairs get put back in a few minutes." She looked down at Mulder. "The ambulance is here. The stretcher should be along any minute now." Getting hoisted onto the stretcher was no more enjoyable than he'd expected. Possibly less. Helpful gawkers kept up a steady stream of suggestions and observations, all of them either redundant or useless or both. He had to swat away more than one person who reached down to pull out the knife when the paramedics' attention was elsewhere. Each of them indignantly informed him that they were just trying to help and his leg would hurt less with it out. Mulder knew the pain wasn't going to lessen until he had some high-end legal drugs in his system. Plus he didn't want to bleed out on the way to the hospital just from a measly knife wound. Scully would undoubtedly hold him responsible if he delayed her vacation any further. Off to one side, the food court worker continued to fuss about the chairs, while Chaim informed anyone within earshot that his great-nephew was a hero, whether they'd already heard it or not. Andy Williams once again warbled over the sound system that it was "the hap-happiest season of all." He heard Scully getting directions to the hospital, telling the paramedics she'd meet them there. She instructed Mulder's uncle and his friends to return to their home. Chaim put up a gallant argument composed of more Yiddish than English, but Scully stood firm. Ed eventually backed her up, taking both Chaim and Myron by the arm and literally hauling them away. Mulder was relieved that he'd be spared the sight of Chaim instructing the doctors on how best to sew up his leg. The medics strapped him down firmly and threw a blanket over his leg, snagging the knife handle in a way that made it grate against his thigh bone. Mulder let loose with an Anglo-Saxon invective that would have put hair on Skinner's head. The paramedics didn't seem to notice, possibly because they were busy trying to keep impatient shoppers from ramming the stretcher to one side so they could pass. On top of the pain, Mulder was beginning to feel seasick from the jostling. The last Mulder saw of Scully as the stretcher trundled toward the doors, she was dragging two chairs back to the food court, dogged by the still-agitated worker. Her continuing admonishments that "them chairs gotta be put back where they come from" sounded like a record needle stuck in a groove, and were obviously unnecessary. Mulder's attention was suddenly diverted when a large man, head down, eyes plastered to his cell phone screen, slammed into the side of the stretcher and caromed off into a pillar. Mulder clamped down on another invective out of sheer habit. The large man glanced up, looked from one end of the stopped stretcher to the other, then opened his mouth. Mulder waited for the apology, eyes watering from pain. "Hey! Watch where you're going, dickhead!" the large man shouted. He reached up with an equally large foot and kicked the side of the stretcher faster than the paramedics could stop him, then stomped off, staring at his phone again. The paramedics fought their way into the crowds streamed through the doors, past people shouting at them for blocking the sidewalk, dodging the ones who wouldn't get out of the way. The holiday shopping frenzy was in full swing, and above all the bustle Andy Williams extolled the virtues of this most wonderful time of the year. Mulder was no longer buying it. "The happiest season of all, my arse," he grumbled as the stretcher bounced into the back of the ambulance. Ho ho humbug. The End Yiddish words and phrases were chosen from this site: http://www.sbjf.org/sbjco/schmaltz/yiddish_phrases.htm With the variations in spelling and meaning, I felt it would be best to stick to one place for continuity.