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File 01: City Of Angels F.B.I headquarters Scully looked up as Mulder walked into their office in the basement of the F.B.I headquarters. He had a file folder in one hand and a pair of plane tickets in the other. She sighed. "What is it this time, Mulder? Vampires? Witches? Little green men?" "I'm not sure, exactly," he said, placing the file down in front of her on the desk. "No one can identify the bodies." "Why's that?" "Have a look at the pictures. I'm not really sure how to describe them." Frowning, Scully opened the folder and pulled out the photos. Her eyes widened at the first one and got wider the more she flipped through them. "What are these things?" "I'm tempted to say aliens, but I've never heard reports of anything that looks like these things." "Where were these taken?" "You'll never guess. Los Angeles." Scully put the pictures down and looked over at her partner who was sitting down in his chair. "I guess we're heading to L.A then." "I knew you'd say that." "I want to know what these things are. No two of them are the same. I've never seen anything so...so..." "Bizarre?" Mulder suggested. "Hideous," Scully finished. "I mean, it's obvious that there's also a killer on the loose, but does this qualify as murder? I can't event ell if these things are or were at one point human." "That's what we're going to find out. Pack your bags, Scully. We're going to sunny California!" *** Syndicate Elsewhere, in a well-furnished living room, a group of old men and one younger one sat around discussing the latest turn of events. The news they'd just received was extremely disturbing. The body count was rising, but the nature of those bodies was unknown. "Perhaps this is another alien colonization attempt, one that conflicts with the black oil's," the Well-manicured Man suggested. "Unlikely, but it's the best theory we have," the First Elder replied. "Unless, of course, someone has a better one." The other men shook their heads. "Well, then, what do you propose we do about this?" the Cigarette Smoking Man asked, taking a long drag of his trademark Morley. "Send in Krycek," W.M.M suggested. "Why Krycek?" F.E asked. "He's a killer after all, as well as a former F.B.I agent with a background in this sort of thing. Who better to investigate these dead...things than someone who specializes in putting things into that state? If the killer turns out to be a threat, he'd be in place to deal with it before the situation got out of hand. Two birds, one stone." "Makes sense," F.E said, nodding. "Don't I get a vote in this?" the younger man asked. "Not really. Are you afraid, Krycek?" C.S.M asked, snuffing out the remains of his cigarette. Krycek rolled his eyes. "Of monsters? No. What killed these things is either another thing with really long claws or a person with a really sharp blade. Either way, one gun isn't going to be enough." "I figured that would be an issue," W.M.M said and tossed something to Krycek. He caught it deftly and held it up. It was a small glass vial containing a clear liquid. "What's this?" "The latest product from our labs," he replied. "It's quite lethal, so don't let any of it contact your blood. Even getting it on your skin will make you itch quite badly. When you do find this killer, if he can't be persuaded to join our cause and your gun just isn't enough, a shot of that will kill him instantly. As we haven't had an opportunity to test the substance yet, this seems like a good opportunity." "You have no other information on any of this? Anything that would keep me from being killed?" "You know all we know, little though that is," C.S.M told him. "We'll be putting you on the next flight out to L.A." Krycek nodded and left the room. "Should we have told him?" W.M.M asked. "No. Knowing that Mulder and Scully are also heading there will only impair him." "Even so, he's bound to run into them." "Send one of our own to keep an eye on the situation," F.E suggested. "Wouldn't that be a waste of time?" C.S.M asked. "If he spots an agent, it'll cause trouble. We'll just have to trust him to do his job." "We won't be able to deny knowledge if he does run into them," W.M.M warned. "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it." *** L.A.P.D headquarters "Detective Lockely? There's a couple people here to see you." Kate Lockely looked up from her desk to see a man and a woman walking towards her. They were both well-dressed and immaculately groomed and both had very serious expressions on their faces. "Can I help you?" she asked, setting her pen down. "Agents Mulder and Scully, we're with the F.B.I," the man told her, pulling out his badge. The name read Fox Mulder. "We received a call from your office about some murders." She stood. "Ah, yes. I'm glad you could make it. I'm Detective Kate Lockely." She shook their hands. "I'm not sure you can really qualify these as murders." "How so?" the woman, Scully, asked. "Well, you saw the pictures we sent, right? Well, as far as I understand the law, murder relates to people, to humans, and I don't think that those bodies are human. They certainly don't look it." "Did you check the back for a zipper?" Scully asked. "They're real, not costumes." "Do you think that they might be extraterrestrial in origin?" Mulder asked. Lockely raised an eyebrow. "Why would I believe that?" "If they clearly aren't human, then the possibility exists that they're alien." "When did you get out of the psych ward?" Mulder grinned. "You think I'm crazy don't you?" She folded her arms across her chest. "The thought had occurred to me, yes." "I assure you of my sanity." "That sounds real funny coming from a guy who just asked if I thought those weird things are aliens." "Do you have a better explanation?" Lockely paused. "Not really." She turned to Scully. "Is he always like this?" She nodded. "Pretty much. You get used to it after a while." Mulder flashed her a wounded look. "So, can we get a look at the bodies?" "They're down at the morgue. I'll take you there." "If you don't mind, we'll follow you in our car," Mulder said. "That's no problem. Let's go." *** Morgue The mortician on duty looked up as the three people, all flashing badges, walked through the front doors. He recognized the first, a blond woman, without looking at her badge. "Detective Lockely, it's good to see you again. How can I help you?" "We're here to see those things that you've got in cold storage." He looked at the other two. "What interest does the Bureau have with this?" "We have an interest in any unexplainable phenomena," Mulder told him. "You'll love this, then," he told them, leading them into a back room. There was a body covered in a sheet lying on an autopsy table. "There are more in the cooler. This one came in a few hours ago." Scully pulled back the sheet and stared at the body in horrified fascination. The creature had green skin and looked reptilian. "Incredible." "I've never seen anything quite like this before," Mulder added. "It looks like something out of a bad sci-fi movie if you ask me," Lockely said impatiently. "Have you done an autopsy on...it yet?" Scully asked the mortician. He looked surprised. "Should I have?" "We need to know what killed it." "I thought that was quite obvious." He reached over an pulled the sheet further down to reveal deep slash marks crusted in dark orange blood. "Nonetheless, I'd still like to examine the body to learn more about it." At his skeptical look, she added, "I'm a medical doctor." "Knock yourself out. There's about a dozen others if you want to look at them, too." "Like this one?" "No, they're all different." Mulder exchanged a look with Scully and turned to Lockely. "So we have thirteen different dead unidentifiable creatures. We only have ten in the pictures you sent us." "At the time I sent them, we'd only found the ten." "The next two were found just last night and I already told you about this fellow here," the mortician supplied. "How long has this been going on?" Mulder asked, poking the creature's skin. "We don't know for sure. These are the first ones we've found. There could be more out there that we just don't know about." "I'd better get to it, then," Scully sighed, slapping on a pair of latex gloves. *** Outside, Mulder pulled Lockely aside. "How were the bodies discovered?" "Some of them were phoned in by local residents, and a few were found by officers in this precinct." "Could I get a list of those people and how to contact them? I'd like to ask them a few questions." "We've already done that." "With all due respect to your job, Detective, my partner and I specialize in this sort of thing and we might be able to pick up on something you missed. Also, whoever is responsible for these might move on to humans and we need to find out who it is before that has a chance to happen." Lockely nodded. "Would you like a copy of our findings as well?" "Anything you have on this would be welcome." "Do you want to come back to the station with me to get them or would you prefer to have a copy sent to your hotel room?" After a moment, he replied, "I might as well head back with you. I'll follow you in my car. Scully will call me when she's done." She nodded. "If you'll follow me then." *** Hyperion Hotel "Hey Wes, anything going on? A new Apocalypse? Demon cult? Wolfram and Hart back up to their old tricks again?" Wesley Wyndham-Pryce looked up to see Angel walking down the stairs, buttoning up his shirt. He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. The news has been relatively quiet lately." "What Wes means to say is that there's still no news on those mysterious bodies turning up all over the place," Cordelia said, shooting Wes a glare. "No news on what or who they are." Angel sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. "I think I'm going to go have a talk with Kate about this. We need to know what's going on." "I don't disagree with you, but don't you think we should let the police handle it this time? For all we know, these are just murders," Wesley protested. "And for all we know, there's something weird about it," Angel retorted. "We have to at least check it out." "Angel has a point, Wes," Gunn put in. "At least find out first and make a decision then." The four turned to the fifth member of the team. "What do you think Fred?" Wes asked, desperately hoping that she'd take his side. The shy brunette looked up from her laptop. "I say skip the police work and start looking for either a person that kills demons or a demon that kills other demons. I mean think about it. This is Los Angeles. How often is there something as simple as a plain old murder case?" They stared at her. "Well, ok, it happens, but wouldn't they be more open about it on the news if that was the case?" Wesley sighed. "It would seem that I've been outnumbered. Very well, then. Angel, find out what you can. Gunn, have a look around, see if you can learn anything. Fred, Cordy, help me dig through the books and see if we can come up with anything." *** L.A.P.D headquarters Angel walked into Kate's part of the L.A.P.D. She looked up at him. "So. Come to ask me about the weird bodies, I take it?" "How'd you know?" "This is your sort of thing, isn't it? Frankly, I expected you sooner." "I've been sleeping." "I guess you still need to do that. You aren't the only one interested in the bodies, by the way." "Oh?" "A pair of F.B.I agents named Mulder and Scully. The chief sent them some pictures. It wasn't my idea. I would have preferred to keep it under wraps, but the chief decided that she'd had enough and got them involved. The woman, Scully, is a doctor and did an autopsy on the latest one." "What'd she find?" "Not much that we didn't already know." She showed him a picture. "Recognize it?" He took it from her. "That's a Polgara demon. Nasty things. They've got these neat bone skewers that come out of their wrists in combat. Hurt like hell if you get stabbed by one." "So it does have a name." "Whatever killed it did a good job. Don't feel too bad for it. They're not very bright, they're extremely violent and need to eat constantly. The world's a better place without it." "Can you place any of these ones?" Lockely asked, handing him some more pictures. After flipping through them, he looked up. "All of these are extremely violent demons. Killers, baby eaters, and the like." "So what your saying is that no harm was done in killing these things." "Pretty much, yeah," he replied. "All the same, if this killer starts targeting harmless ones, the next place to turn from there is humans. Then again, who's to say that there haven't been human and non-violent demon victims? Also, it's very likely that there are more victims, but ones that don't leave bodies lying around." "Like Vampires." "There are other demons that leave no traces," he told her. "Mind if I take these? Wes and the others might be able to make more of them that I can. Besides, all our books are back at the hotel." "Go for it. I don't care who figures out what's going on here, just as long as I don't have a killer on the loose in my city." "Right. I'll get right on this," he said and left. Lockely leaned back in her chair, putting a hand on her forehead. This is insane! I just hope those F.B.I agents don't learn that I was aware of the existence of demons and his that from them. I should have warned Angel not to tell them anything about that. I guess I can always claim that I thought they wouldn't believe me, even with Mulder's questions about aliens. She stood up, grabbing her jacket and her car keys. "I'm heading home for the night. See you all in the morning." Not waiting for any acknowledgement from her fellow officers, she headed out to her car. She saw a tall dark haired man in black jeans, white t-shirt and a leather jacket. At first, she'd thought it was Mulder, but when he moved into the light, she saw that it wasn't. "Who are you?" "My name isn't important. What is important is lying in the morgue. You're going to take me there." "You could get there yourself. It's not far." "I don't know how to get there. I've been watching you. You're working on this case, so you have access to the bodies. You also have a car." "I'm not taking you anywhere. I don't know you." He pulled out a gun. "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you." "Pulling a gun on an officer is a punishable offence," she warned him. "I don't really care. Get in the car." "She's not going anywhere with you." He turned to see a shadowy figure walking towards him. "Didn't your mom tell you not to point guns at people?" "She must have missed that. I don't know who you are, but if you don't back away, I'll kill you." A smile spread across his face. "Kate, get out of here. I'll take care of this whacko." "Whacko am I?" "Angel, I can take care of myself." "Angel?" the stranger stared at him. "Your name is Angel? What kind of weak-ass mama's boy are you anyways?" "Actually, the name is Angelus, but I prefer Angel. People get confused if I go by Angelus." "I don't really care. Are you afraid of dying, Angel?" "Not really. I've done that already." The stranger frowned, puzzled, but shook it off. "Looks like you get to do so again," he said, and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Angel square in the chest. He looked down at it and then up again, his face shifting from his usual human appearance into his vampiric face. "You really, really shouldn't have done that. Now it's your turn." He advanced on the stranger. He didn't get a chance to attack as the stranger fled into the night. Angel turned to Lockely. "Are you ok?" "Fine. I really just want to go home and have a hot shower." "Want me to come with you? To make sure that creep doesn't try again, that is." "I'll be fine. I have a gun, too, remember?" "Oh. Right. You're a cop. Cops have guns." "I'll be fine." She got into her car. "See you later!" he called after her as she pulled out of the parking lot. *** Krycek ducked into a back alleyway. He looked behind him, gasping for breath. He put his gun away and tried to calm down. In all the years that he'd been working for the F.B.I and the Syndicate, and with all of the weird things that had happened to him, nothing had prepared him for what he'd just seen. What was that thing? It looked human and then it wasn't. Nothing could have lived through that. Nothing human anyways. Is this some new alien? A mutation? Whatever it was, it seemed more interested in keeping me from that detective than in pursuing me. He straightened. He turned to head out of the alley but a shape jumped out of the shadows at him. It was tall, powerfully built, with cloven hooves and curling horns coming out of its head. It roared. "Could this day get any worse?" Krycek asked himself, pulling out his gun. *** File 02: Bumps In The Night Alleyway "Could this day get any worse?" Krycek asked himself, pulling out his gun. The creature headed for him, roaring with its hands reaching for him. He fired three shots, but it didn't stop. As it neared him, its eyes suddenly widened and it gave a horrendous shriek. It turned away from him and headed the other way. As it moved, Krycek caught a glimpse of a figure in a long black leather trench coat holding a long object in its hands. In the light, whoever it was appeared to be blond with longish hair and of average build. The object the figure was holding moved and light glinted off it. A sword. It dripped with a black substance. Judging by the gash on the creature's back, the black stuff was its blood. The creature made a series of noises that sounded like a language, but it was incomprehensible to Krycek. The figure replied back in kind, enraging the creature. It charged at the sword wielder, earning it a swift decapitation. Its head bounced off a wall and rolled along the ground, stopping at Krycek's feet. He looked at it and back up at the figure holding the sword. "Who are you? What was that thing?" he asked, unable to help himself. Really, he didn't give a rat's ass about the monster. He wanted to know about the killer. Who used a sword anyways? People prefer knives or guns. He also wished he knew what he was dealing with. Was this person a man or a woman? From the way the jacket draped, it was impossible to tell. The figure stared at him. "That's on a need to know basis only," was the reply. "If you're going to play with the things that go bump in the night, you'd better get yourself a real weapon instead of that pathetic little pea shooter." The figure moved, pulling out a piece of cloth and wiped the blade clean before dropping the cloth to the ground, sheathing the sword, and walking away, leaving Krycek staring. "I don't know who that is but I hate him already." He went over to pick up the discarded cloth. He didn't really know if the figure had been male, but it was better to attach a gender label than to refer to a person as 'it'. He examined the cloth before tucking it into a jacket pocket. "I need some rest. This day has been the most bizarre one I've had in a while." *** Crown Palace Hotel "So will you tell me now what you found?" Mulder asked. He was getting impatient. Scully had been back to the hotel for half an hour and had refused to tell him what she'd found until she'd had a chance to have a shower, change her clothes, and eat something. Anticipating her need for food, Mulder had ordered a pizza for them, as he hadn't eaten much of anything besides some sunflower seeds. After getting out of the shower, Scully had immediately dug into the pizza, tossing back four pieces and a can of pop before she sat back, satisfied. "Yes, though it really wasn't much. I did discover that the newest of the bodies had a long skewer in each arm that would come out through a hole in the skin of the wrist. From the looks of them, they could inflict a fair amount of damage. All of them were killed in the same manner: a sharp bladed weapon, possibly a long knife. All of them have varying degrees of additional injuries from trying to defend themselves, but all ended the same way." "Can you tell if it was this was done by the same person or if it was done by more than one?" "I can't say for certain, but I think it was done by the same person. Part of that is really wishful thinking. I'd rather chase after one person than two or more." "Understandable," Mulder agreed. "Any idea what those things are?" "The bodies? No idea. I don't even have a theory on this. You?" He shook his head. "I'm going to head to the library tomorrow to see if there are any past incidents of this. You're welcome to join me if you don't have anything else you'd rather do." "I think I'll questions the people on the list Detective Lockely gave us, see if I can learn anything we don't already know." Scully sighed. "This has to be the weirdest thing I've done." "Even weirder than being abducted and having an implant put into your neck?" "As strange as it sounds, yes. We've seen all manner of strange things since we started working together and this just tops that." Mulder laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that." She shrugged and grinned. "It's the truth. Isn't that what you've been looking for?" He stood up. "Goodnight Scully. I'll see you downstairs for breakfast. 8:30 am sharp." Scully watched her partner leave and shook her head, getting up to have a shower. *** Huntsman Heights Condominiums The key turned in the lock of a condo on the top floor of the main building of the complex. The young woman stepped inside and dropped her keys on the table beside the door before taking her boots and jacket off, discarding both as she walked further inside. She unbuckled her belt, removed the long, sheathed sword that had been hanging from it, and dropped the belt beside the couch. It fell with a soft thump. She took the weapon out of its sheath and sat down on the couch and picked up the sharpening stone that sat on the coffee table in front of her. She bent to sharpening the long black blade. Killing that demon earlier had dulled it faster than any of the others she'd killed earlier. She paused in her sharpening, an unnatural silence descending on her home. Thinking about the demon she'd slain earlier drew her back to the memory of the man the demon had attacked before she'd gotten there. Idiot. Everyone in L.A knew better than to go into dark alleys after sunset. At least he'd had the decency to carry a weapon, even though it was an ineffective one. He was lucky that it wasn't a vampire that had decided to try and make a meal of him. She hadn't been able to see his face clearly in the dim light, but he'd sounded fairly young, possibly in his mid to late twenties. Rude, too. Hadn't even had the courtesy to thank her for saving his life. She frowned. Just for once, she wished that people would stop and thank the person responsible for their continued existence. With a sigh, she picked the sharpening stone up and resumed work on the dull blade, not looking forward to getting back to work the next day. *** Wayside Motel Krycek woke with a start the next morning as he rolled over into a patch of sunlight. He'd forgotten to close the curtains last night when he'd checked in. It was a mistake that could potentially cost him his life. He rubbed his eyes and rolled over. The bedside clock read 7:38 am. He sat up and reached for his jeans, pulling them on. He got up, forgetting to do them up. He walked over to the windows to pull the curtains closed. After splashing his face with some cold water to shake himself awake, he finished dressing. He took a closer look at himself in the mirror. He had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. Hardly surprising, especially considering the bizarre dreams he'd had the night before. He kept seeing the figure in the black leather jacket with the sword dripping with black blood. Blond hair fluttered in the breeze and a pair of black eyes glared at him. As in real life, he couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. It was incredibly frustrating. No matter how much he shouted, demanding this person's name, the stare never wavered and the figure never said anything. Shaking his head, Krycek decided to get out and get some breakfast. There was a McDonald's near by and that was good enough for him. He didn't often have the opportunity to eat breakfast, so any food was welcome. He grabbed his jacket and put it on, picked up the key to his room, his wallet, and headed out the door. *** McDonald's After ordering his food, Krycek sat down and dug into it. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he took a bite out of the Bacon 'n Egger he'd bought. He went back an ordered another one and a few more hash browns, taking his time with them. A couple tables over from him sat a group of people. The first was a tall, dark haired man in a leather jacket wearing al black clothes. He was very pale and only drank coffee. The next was a medium sized brown haired man with glasses and spoke with a British accent. There was a smooth-headed dark skinned man who spoke with a great deal of slang. A flamboyantly dressed young woman with short cut black hair sat next to the man with the leather jacket, listening intently to what the Brit was saying. The last person at the table was a timid looking young woman with long brown hair and glasses. She said very little, happily chowing down on some breakfast burritos. He decided to listen in on them, to see if he could learn anything. "I'm telling you Angel, this is just getting weirder," the bald guy said. "I spoke to my crew and they say that the vamps have been very quiet lately. No new nests or anything." The man referred to as Angel, the pale one, looked up from his coffee. "Really? It takes a lot to drive vampires underground." Krycek raised an eyebrow? Vampires? He believed that vampires existed? He' get along very well with Mulder. "Was Merle helpful at all?" The short haired woman asked. "Why does everyone always assume that I'm hitting him up for information?" Angel had a wounded expression on his face. "Because you always do," the Brit replied, polishing off the last of his meal. "You have no idea how happy I am that this place opened up here. It's so close to the hotel and so convenient." "How the mighty have fallen," the bald man smirked. "Contrary to what you may think, Gunn, I do enjoy a change once in a while. Besides, Fred seems happy about it." At the mention of the name Fred, the girl with the glasses looked up and smiled. "Now all I need is a good taco place." She frowned. "Do you think McDonald's would ever sell tacos?" "Not likely, Fred," Gunn told her. She looked disappointed. "Anyways, Merle wasn't very helpful. Said something about a hunter, but that's all he knew." "Great. Cordelia, Fred, and I couldn't find anything in our books. Obviously, there are infightings between the various races, but nothing in any of my books has anything that remotely matches what's been going on. And if it's affecting the vampires, and Merle knows nothing, then it's bad." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, as long as it isn't Wolfram and Hart or another apocalypse, it's all good." "Cordy!" "She has a point," Angel said. "This is better than the end of the world or irritating, soulless lawyers." Krycek wasn't sure what to make of that last statement. Lawyers were generally considered to be heartless, but soulless? And what was this talk about an apocalypse? "So what now? All we have to go on is that file you got from Kate and that wasn't much." "I don't know, Wes, I just don't." Angel shook his head. "What, exactly, did Merle say about this hunter?" Fred asked, setting her burrito down. "Not much, just something about a black sword and a nasty disposition." "Never mind then." "What are you thinking?" Wes leaned towards her. "I knew a girl in high school with the last name of Hunter, but she's a very nice girl. She doesn't have a nasty disposition, not that I ever saw. She was always really nice to me, standing up for me against the other kids." "Doesn't sound like a killer to me," Gunn concluded. "Looking at Angel, do you see a killer? You'd never know about his darker side just looking at him," Wes pointed out. "Oh yeah." "Well, are we all finished here? Let's get back to work then." The group stood up and left the building. Outside, they covered Angel with a blanket until they got him into the car. Through the window, Krycek could see that they were heading towards an old hotel. It looked abandoned and decrepit. He swallowed the last of his coffee and headed off after them. Perhaps they might be able to help him unravel this and figure out who this hunter was and if this person would be an asset or a hindrance to the Syndicate. *** Hyperion Hotel Cordelia was out in the lobby of the hotel going through the file Kate Lockely had given them when the door opened. She looked up and smiled. "Angel Investigations, how may I..." She stopped when she got a good look at the man. He was fairly tall, with dark green eyes and short brown hair. He wore black jeans and a white shirt under his leather jacket. He had faint bags under his eyes and a suspicious look to him. Despite that, he was quite attractive. "Help you?" she finished. He looked at her. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he started. "Huh? Oh, don't worry about it. I've been over this stuff a million times already." "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation earlier. The one about the mysterious bodies." She gave him a strange look. "There's nothing all that mysterious about them. I guess to someone who doesn't deal with these things like we do would think that they're mysterious and unexplainable." "Cordelia, who're you talking to?" Wesley, the British guy, came out of the office in the back and took a good look at who she was talking to. "Can we help you?" "He heard us talking at McDonald's," she explained. "That's all he's said so far." Wesley folded his arms across his chest. "I see." "I think I may have some information for you." Wes's eyes lit up. "Really? Come on in then, have a seat. Coffee?" "No thanks." He followed Wesley into the office area. The pale man, Angel was in there, drinking something out of a mug. Krycek sniffed the air. "Is someone hurt?" "No, why?" Wesley asked. "I smell blood." Angel chocked on what he was drinking. He looked up. "Really? You can smell blood?" "It's a trick I've picked up." He looked at Angel. "Did you bite your lip of something? You've got some blood on it." Angel reached up and touched his lower lip. "Uh..." "So, why don't you tell us what you know?" Gunn broke in, sparing Angel the problem of coming up with a reply. "I would like something in return. I want to know what these things are, these bodies." The group exchanged a look. "You're not from around here are you?" Fred started. "No." "I thought so. That's no problem then, is it?" Everyone else shook their heads. "Anyone who'd been living around here would likely have a guess as to what they are. I knew, and I haven't been here for five years. Of course in those five years I learned more than I wanted and-" "Fred," Angel interrupted. "That's ok." "Oh. Right." "Why don't you start by telling us your name?" Cordelia suggested. "I'm Alex Krycek. I figured yours out earlier." "You're good," Angel commented, taking another sip from his mug. "Anyways, I overheard you talking about the bodies and some guy named Merle mentioning a hunter. I think I might have met this hunter." Wes leaned forward. "Really?" "I was out for a walk and took a wrong turn, winding up in a dark alley." He described what had happened in as much detail as possible. Wesley opened a book, flipped a few pages and turned it towards Krycek. "Is that what attacked you?" "Yes, that's it." "You were lucky that person showed up when he did. Fyral demons are extremely violent and can fire a quick drying mucus that turns solid quickly to incapacitate their prey. They are vulnerable to silver." "It was decapitated." "That'll kill pretty much anything," Cordelia observed. "So about the bodies?" "Demons," Angel told him. "All of the ones we've found are of very dangerous species. Violent ones like the Fyral, baby eaters, Apocalypse cults, and the like. Not very pleasant ones to have around." Krycek rolled his eyes. "Children's stories. You expect me to believe this?" "If they aren't true, then what attacked you last night?" Gunn challenged. "A guy in a costume. You know, you sound a lot like a guy I used to work with. Believed in aliens." "I remember Willow telling me about a meteor crash just outside of Sunnydale that brought an alien with it that preyed on the insane," Angel said. "She said the thing went after her mom after she'd gotten out of surgery." "So you believe that aliens, demons, and vampires exist?" Krycek asked skeptically. "I don't really have much of a choice," Angel said. He sounded a little sad. "Why's that?" Angel looked at him and his face changed from that of a perfectly normal human being into that of a freakish monster. Krycek jumped up and pulled his gun. "What the hell are you?" he demanded. "A vampire. That blood you smelled earlier is pigs blood." "Pig's blood? Don't vampires drink human blood?" "Not when they have a soul." "You're confusing him, Angel," Cordelia scolded. Angel's face went back to the way it was before. "I guess we should explain." Angel sighed. "You'll want to sit down again. This could take a while. And put that thing away. It won't do you any good. Unless, of course, those bullets are made of sharp wood." "I'm not sitting down or putting my gun away until I know what's going on here." "Fine." Angel took a deep breath and told him about himself. "I was born in Galway, Ireland in 1727. Darla sired me as a vampire in 1753. When my sister saw me rise from the dead, she thought I was an angel, so I took on the name Angelus." He proceeded to tell Krycek in great detail about the things he and Darla had done together and how he was cursed. Everything up until the present day fights, about Buffy and the tale of the Slayer to the fights with Wolfram and Hart, the evil law firm. Krycek had sat down somewhere towards the middle of the tale, his gun still in hand. As Angel told him about the Slayer and his adventures in Sunnydale, the gun had fallen unnoticed from his limp hand. "And this is all true?" he asked weakly when Angel had finished. "Every word of it. Even the day that only I remember." "Right. I need to go think." He stood up and headed for the door. "Thanks for the information," Wes called after him. "Do you think we scared him?" Fred asked. "I hope not. He seems like an ok guy." Cordelia had a dreamy half smile on her face. "I don't know about him. In my experience, the only people who can distinctly identify the smell of blood are people who deal with it all the time. The way he got his gun out so quickly leads me to believe that he's dangerous." "You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" "Well, not that we have a bit more information, we know that this hunter seems to be human and has a long sword." Wes looked at his friends. "Based on that, we can refine our search. Angel, would you care to pass this on to Detective Lockely? She deserves to know what we've found out. Maybe she's learned something in the mean time." They nodded and went about their business, trying to learn more. Fred seemed a little distracted, but no one commented on it. *** File 03: Demons And Lawyers Wolfram and Hart "That takes care of the regular business. Anything to add?" Linwood looked around the table at the assembled members of the Special Projects division of the firm. "I'd like to add something," Lilah spoke up. "It seems that we have three new players in town dealing with the dead demons that have been popping up." "It's bad enough that the police are involved and now this?" Linwood was justifiably upset. "Who are these people?" "The first two are F.B.I agents by the names of Mulder and Scully. The third I haven't been able to learn much about. His name is Alex Krycek, but that's really all I know. The L.A.P.D contacted the F.B.I regarding the demon bodies. It seems that the Bureau has a department that specializes in paranormal phenomena and these two agents belong to it." "Great," Lindsay muttered, rolling his eyes. "An unknown and a pair of Feds. Great. Just great." "This can be salvaged," Linwood said slowly. "We need to find this hunter and I think I know where to look." "Sir?" Lilah asked, confused. "Nothing for you to worry about. We'll discuss this at our next meeting, so unless anyone has something else to bring forward, this meeting is adjourned." "What are you thinking, Lilah?" Lindsey MacDonald asked his fellow lawyer. "Not much." Lilah Morgan didn't like Lindsey, but he did get straight to the point. "Wondering what's going on Linwood's head mostly. What isn't he telling us about this demon hunter? And how is it that he knows where to start looking?" "Why are you asking me? I'm as much in the dark as you are." "I'm not asking, I'm talking to myself, trying to figure things out." Lindsey nodded. "Do you think this hunter is a threat to the firm?" "Could be. It's better to assume so and be prepared for it." "What do you have in mind?" "I think we should talk to this third person, this Alex Krycek, see if he can help us out." "How much help do you think you can get out of this guy?" Lindsey paused at his office door. "I'm more worried about the F.B.I. What were the police thinking, bringing them in?" "Especially these two. My source tells me that one is a medical doctor and the other believes in aliens." Lindsey raised an eyebrow. "Aliens? That's the craziest thing I've ever heard." "Tell me about it," Lilah snickered. "Then again, isn't the Host from Caritas technically an alien, being from a demon dimension and all?" "If you really want to define an alien that way, then yes, I suppose. So do you want to talk to this Krycek person or shall I?" "I'll talk to him. He might respond better to a woman's touch. Besides, I don't trust you to bungle this." "I could say the same to you." Lindsey paused. "Do you even know how to get a hold of him?" "I know where he's staying. You didn't think I'd come to the staff meeting unprepared, did you?" *** Crown Palace Hotel "So, Scully, how was your day?" Mulder asked as he looked at the restaurant's menu. He'd spent the entire day at the local library trying to find anything about the bodies or if the city had ever reported anything like it before. Scully, on the other hand, had spent the day interviewing the people who had found the bodies. She sighed and looked up at her partner. "Next time I get to do the library research and you can interview people." "That bad, huh?" "Let's just say that I didn't learn anything and leave it at that. If you happen to have any aspirin on you, that would be nice." "Poor Scully," Mulder said sympathetically. "Were you more productive?" "As a matter of fact, I did learn something. Not much, but it sent me looking elsewhere. To make a long story short, I made a contact. This contact knows what's going on and wants to talk to us later at a karaoke bar called Caritas." "A karaoke bar? That's kind of a strange place, isn't it?" "If that's where he wants to meet us, then that's where we'll meet." Mulder shrugged. "Did you catch his name?" "Lorne. No last name." "Probably doesn't want us tracking him down." "It's not that. He says he doesn't have a last name." Scully raised an eyebrow. "None? Odd. Out of curiosity, what does this guy look like?" "I never saw his face, but he was wearing a yellow suit. His face was hidden." "He really doesn't want to be identified. He gave you the address?" Mulder fished a sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket. "Right. You sing?" "Nope. You?" "Don't you remember that time when we were lost in the woods and you told me to sing to keep you awake?" "Oh yeah. That just goes to show that the mind really does block out painful memories." "It wasn't that bad." "No, Scully, I meant your voice." Scully glared at him and he laughed. "I'm teasing." "I realize that. What time are we supposed to be at this bar?" "Well, it opens when the sun goes down, so any time after that is ok." "Right." The waiter came to their table. "Yes, I'll have the fourteen ounce New York steak, well done, and some coffee, please." "And you sir?" "I'll have the same." The waiter took their menus and left. "You're hungry tonight." "I've had a bad day, Mulder." "Let's hope this is over with soon so we can get back to Washington. You need a break." "That's very nice of you, but remember what happened the last time I went on vacation?" "Right. The evil doll. Well, that can't be helped. Point is, you need a break. We both do." "Sure. Ah. Here's dinner. I'm starved." *** Wayside Motel Krycek returned to his motel room after a long day of wandering around. He didn't quite remember where he'd gone during the day. All that mattered was that he was back in his room. Problem was, he hadn't come up with anything in all of his thinking. If what the people of Angel Investigations had said earlier was true, then man truly wasn't alone on the Earth, that there were many races of creatures that the common folk knew nothing about, not even the people he worked for. For some reason, that thought was really disturbing to him. Now he understood what it felt like to have your view of the world do a complete about face. He started to take his jacket off when he noticed a folded sheet of white paper on the table. He stopped and went over to pick it up. It was a note addressed to him. Suspicion warred with curiosity as he unfolded it. It read: Mr. Alex Krycek, You weren't here earlier when I came to see you. We at Wolfram and Hart are aware that you have had contact with a demon hunter and would like to talk with you about that. If you would care to learn more about things that are surely confusing and strange to you, meet me at the following address at 8:00 this evening. Sincerely, He blinked and set the note down, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed. This was an unexpected turn of events. He knew about Wolfram and Hart from his talk with Angel Investigations earlier. If what they said were true, that law firm was in with demons and all sorts of unpleasant things. They were almost like the Syndicate, but dealt with demons instead of aliens and conspiracies. Krycek had to admit that he was curious. Who was this Lilah Morgan and how did she know who he was and how to find him? For that matter, how did she know what he'd seen the night before? Were they in league with the hunter? Or were they enemies? In the end, he decided to go. He needed to learn more about the hunter in order to satisfy both his personal curiosity and to give a detailed report back to the Syndicate. Besides, he had nothing better to do later that evening and if someone was going to willingly provide him with information, who was he to say no? He was, if nothing else, opportunistic. *** Caritas Mulder and Scully walked into what was undoubtedly the strangest situation they'd ever found themselves in. It wasn't the locale that was odd, but he people populating it, if 'people' was the correct word to use in most of their cases. Up on stage, there was a strange-looking creature with green skin and black spines sticking out of its face singing an old Beatles tune. Most of the audience was comprised of other strange beings, some vaguely human in appearance, others very inhuman. At the bar, there was a human drinking a thick red substance out of a glass. Another slid onto a stool beside him and asked what that was. He replied with B-. The second one nodded and signaled to the bar tender that he'd like the same thing. Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. B-? Wasn't that a blood type? Strange name for an alcoholic beverage. They looked around, deciding to take a seat at the bar. Mulder ordered them a beer each to make them look like customers. It wasn't long before a strange looking man in a pale yellow suit walked up to them. His suit wasn't the strangest thing about him, either. His skin was deep green and he had a pair of short red horns on his head. He carried a drink in one hand. He smiled. "Welcome to Caritas. You two look a little lost. Is there something I can help you with?" "Uh, yeah, I'm Mulder and this is Scully. We were supposed to meet someone here." "You two are with the F.B.I?" They nodded. "I was wondering when you were going to show up. I'm Lorne, the guy who you're here to talk to." "You're definitely not what I expected," Mulder stated. "I don't mean to stare, but are you...uh..." "Human?" Lorne supplied. "No. Though I dislike using the term, I'm a demon. Not from around here, but that doesn't really matter." "Mulder tells me that you know what's going on around here." Scully's eyes moved from his skin to the horns and back again. "I get a lot of odd customers down here and I hear a lot of strange things. You see that Bracken demon on the stage there? He's afraid. All of the demons here are afraid. Some have reason to and others don't, but the fact remains that there's still fear." "What reason do they have to be afraid?" Scully asked. "You've seen the bodies, right? They're afraid that they'll be next. You might not see it, but they all look really nervous. Funny thing is that they're safe here." "What makes them safe here?" "There's a non-violence spell placed on this place. It's impossible for any harm to come to anyone who comes in." Scully raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? I just don't see how that's possible." "That's not the important thing right now. You wanted to know about those bodies and that's what I brought you here for." "So start talking." Scully looked irritated. "Don't mind her. She's had a bad day." "Right. I get that." Lorne swallowed some of his brightly colored drink and continued. "To make a long story short, there's a demon hunter that's taken up residence here in L.A." "What's the long story?" Mulder asked. "It would take too long to tell it. It started hundreds of years ago and is still going on. Besides, I don't really know all of the specific details." He paused, looking over to the door. "Well now. There's something I don't see every day." Mulder and Scully turned to see a tall, thin woman with brown hair and an expressionless face. She was dressed in a skirt suit and looked very formal. She sat down at a table and crossed her legs, taping her fingernails impatiently on the table top. "You know her?" Mulder asked. "That's Lilah Morgan, a lawyer with Wolfram and Hart. If you need legal representation while here, I suggest that you steer clear of them. That's another long story, but they're evil. Take all the bad things you've ever head about lawyers and that's them." "I think you might be exaggerating just a little bit there," Sully said. Lorne shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just take my advice and avoid them. Lilah is a good example of what they're like. She's not a very nice person. The only W&H lawyer I can stand is Lindsey MacDonald, and that's just because the guy can sing. Boy, can he sing." "So about this hunter," Scully prompted. "Oh, right. I don't know a lot, but it's a lot more than what you know. The chances of you finding her are very slim. She's very secretive and prefers to be left alone." "This hunter is a woman?" Scully asked incredulously. "I've seen the damage done to those bodies. The depth of those marks are made by someone incredibly strong." "She is strong," Lorne stated. "I mean, she's no Slayer, but she's one tough little hell cat. It runs in the family, too. I've met her Grandmother. Someone pushing a hundred years shouldn't be that tough." Mulder and Scully exchanged a look. Something out of the corner of Mulder's eye caught his attention. His hand immediately went for his gun but he couldn't quite seem to pull it out of his holster. Scully gave him an odd look. "Mulder, what are you doing?" "Krycek just walked in." Scully half turned to see the familiar brown haired figure in his usual black jeans and leather jacket. He stopped just inside the doorway and looked around. The woman Lorne identified as Lilah Morgan got up from her table and went over to him, extending her hand for him to shake. They couldn't hear the words that passed between them. After a moment, they went to the table Lilah was sitting at. Mulder turned to Lorne. "What you said earlier about Wolfram and Hart being evil? I think I believe you now." "Who is that?" he asked. "Alex Krycek. He's a traitor and all around scum bag. It makes sense for someone like him to be dealing with someone like them." "Ah." "The real question being why is he here?" Scully mused. "Whatever it is, it can't b good," Mulder said. "You better have a damned good reason for leaving that note in my room," Krycek told the brunette he now sat across a table from in what was undeniably the strangest place he'd ever been in, missile silo included. "I believe that you have information that Wolfram and Hart could use," Lilah said calmly. "Information regarding a possible threat to us." "And what information would that be?" She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. "We know what happened to you last night with the creature that attacked you. We also know that you got a look at the person that killed it. We want to know what you saw." Krycek gave a short laugh. "I don't know as much as you think I do. All I got was a quick look." "It's still more information than we have," Lilah stated. "What's in it for me?" "Depends on how useful you are." "You tell me what you know and I'll tell you what I know." "What do you want to know?" "Let's start with what those things are and why that guy is killing them. I heard that they're demons." "They are, actually. The one that jumped you was a Fyral demon. They're hard to kill." "So those guys weren't bullshitting me," Krycek mused, leaning back in his chair. "What guys?" "They're not important." Lilah raised an eyebrow. "So. I've answered your question. It's your turn." "I can't tell you much. I think it was a man. He was a little shorter than me with blond hair that looked about shoulder length His yes were in the dark, so I don't know what color they are. He wore a long jacket and had a sword. At the time, it had some black stuff on it, likely the thing's blood. Oh, and he spoke to it." "The hunter speaks Fyral? That's interesting." "This is unusual?" "Most demon hunters don't bother to learn obscure languages like Fyral. This should make him easier to track down." "Why is it so important for you to find this guy? I'd think that it's a good thing that someone is killing these things." "Normally, I'd agree with you, but the dead demons are either clients of ours or associates." At Krycek's stunned look, she rolled her eyes. "I'll bet you thought that we're your typical law firm, right? Please. We're lawyers. We don't care about the law." She stood up. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Krycek. If this information helps us out I'll see that you're rewarded." Krycek stood and shook her hand before she left. He sat back down at the table and tried to absorb what had just happened. After a moment, he decided that some vodka might help it go down a little easier, so he went up to the bar, spotting two overly familiar faces on the way. From the way that they stared back, they'd evidently seen him already so there was no use trying to hide. With them was a green skinned being with short red horns on his head. "What are you two doing here?" "We could ask you the same thing, Krycek," Mulder started before Scully stopped him. "We're on a case. We decided to take a break and see some of L.A. We got lost and stumbled down here, not realizing that it was a karaoke bar," Scully said with a straight face. Mulder gave her a strange look. Krycek echoed the look but said nothing about that. "I'm surprised that you haven't tried to kill me yet, Mulder." Lorne cleared his throat. "He can't. Not down here anyways." He explained about the non-violence spell placed on Caritas. "I'll have to remember that." He paused, seeing the strange look on Lorne's face. "What?" "Oh my," was all he could get out. The others turned to follow his gaze. *** File 04: Only Human Caritas Krycek and Mulder both felt their jaws drop while Scully just stared. A young woman had just walked down into Caritas. She had blond hair that fell into her charcoal grey eyes. She wore a blood red sleeveless shirt that showed her midriff and a pair of leather pants with high-heeled boots with the tops hidden under the pant legs. She had a ring made of black hematite on the pinky finger of her right hand and a silver ring studded with diamond chips on her ring finger. A silver arm band was twisted around her right upper arm. Around her neck were a silver chain with a Japanese 50 yen coin and a black chocker with a dragon pendant hanging from it, clutching a teardrop-shaped piece of obsidian. In one hand she carried a large, long leather trench coat. Her face was expressionless as she looked around, searching. Her gaze slowly moved over to where they were standing. As her eyes moved over Krycek, he felt his knees turn to jelly and only his firm grip on the bar kept him from collapsing. She saw Lorne and headed over towards him. "Good evening, Riley," he said weakly. "Hi," she said shortly, looking at Krycek, Mulder, and Scully. "Friends of yours?" "These two are," he said indicating Mulder and Scully. "I'm not sure about the other guy, though." "Right. I need to talk to you. Alone." "Sure, whatever you need." He turned to Mulder. "This is really kind of important. I'll be back as soon as I can." He led the girl towards the back of the room where they proceeded to talk in soft tones. Krycek and Mulder continued to stare. Scully rolled her eyes. "One would think that you two were high school boys with the way you're staring. Are you both controlled by your hormones or what?" "You wouldn't understand, Scully," Mulder stated. "We don't agree on many things, Mulder, but I think we both agree that she's gorgeous," Krycek said. "Yes, she is," he agreed. "I wonder what she's doing here?" "Probably getting advice," someone said from beside them. It was the team from Angel Investigations, the people that Krycek had talked to earlier. It was Wesley that had spoken. Cordelia flashed a smile at Krycek. "Nice to see you again. I hope we didn't scare you this morning." "It was just a bit much to process at the time. I think I'm ok now." Mulder looked from Cordelia to Krycek and then to the others. "You know this dirt bag?" Cordelia looked a little puzzled. "Dirt bag? We met him this morning, but I don't see that there's any need to call him a dirt bag." "Who are you people anyways?" Angel asked. "I'm Mulder and this is Scully. You?" After they finished introducing themselves, Angel said, "You're the F.B.I agents that the Detective Lockely brought in aren't you?" "How do you know that?" Scully asked. "We're investigating this, too. We do the demon hunting thing, too and are naturally curious about others doing the same thing," Gunn said. "It can be bad for business to have competition," Cordelia added, not really taking her eyes off Krycek. "So you guys also hunt demons?" Mulder asked. "It certainly would explain how you know all about that stuff," Krycek muttered to himself. "What I want to know is why you'd do something like that, Angel. Being what you are and all." Mulder frowned. "He's human." Angel looked at him. "Correction. Used to be." Before Mulder or Scully could say anything, Angel's face turned from its smooth, human face to the bumpy, ridged visage of his true vampire self. The sight caused them to jump backwards. "I'm a vampire," he explained. "Don't worry, I won't bite." "It would appear that we have a lot of explaining to do," Wesley said, sighing. Three hours later... After hearing Angel's story, Mulder had the feeling that he'd either been drinking way too much or hadn't had enough. The story he'd just heard was too bizarre even for his taste. Vampires? Vampire Slayer? None of it made any sort of rational sense. For a while, he'd wondered if these people were just a little crazy. Towards the end, he'd tossed that theory out the window. There was way too much detail in it for this to be a collective insanity. Krycek had looked bored through it, but he'd also heard it already that day. While Mulder had accepted it as true, Scully was having a harder time, even faced with the hard physical evidence dished up to her in the form of Angel's face and tendency to dink pig's blood as well as in the bodies she'd examined in the morgue. She was used to Mulder's obsessive search for aliens, but to discover that they weren't alone on their own planet was like suddenly being handed proof that Santa Clause existed or something equally as earth shattering. By now most of the clientele had left, leaving only a few extremely drunk Bracken demons, the odd vampire, Lorne, the blond girl, and them left in the bar. There was a vampire up on the stage wailing out an old Aretha Franklin tune. Lorne and the girl were hidden in the shadows, still talking in hushed tones. Krycek kept looking in their direction, trying to make her face out. "I wonder who she is," he finally said, startling everyone. "Wonder who who is?" Wesley asked. "This girl that came in to talk to Lorne just before you guys showed up," Mulder explained. "Very good looking." Lorne walked over to them. The girl didn't follow, but headed to the bar instead. Fred watched her move and shook her head. "Sorry about that, folks. I didn't think that would take as long as it did." "Who is that anyways?" Mulder asked him. "She's an old friend of mine that prefers to be anonymous. She gets enough public attention, so she tries to avoid it when she can." Lorne looked briefly back at the blond girl sipping at a dark red fizzy drink. "Hot though, isn't she?" "You won't get any argument from me," Mulder stated. Scully glared at him. "That's not very professional of you." "It's my opinion that she's an exceptionally attractive woman." "Men are all the same," Cordelia muttered. "Not all of them," Lorne pointed out. "Some act on their hormonal urges." "Speaking of hormones, where did Krycek go?" Scully asked, looking around. They finally spotted him at the bar, sliding onto the stool beside the girl. "Well, if any of you are in need of entertainment, just keep watching." Lorne put his head in his hands. "Why's that?" Angel asked, curiosity eating at him. "She isn't particularly fond of men." Krycek slid onto the stool beside the blond and looked at the drink in her hands. "Hi there," he started, smiling. She looked at him briefly and turned back to her drink. Not discouraged, he tried again. "What's your name?" Still no response. "I'm Alex Krycek." "I don't really care," she said, taking a sip of her drink. Undeterred, he continued on. "Do you come here often?" Nothing. "That drink looks good. What is it?" "Arsenic." He laughed. "You're funny." "I was serious." He gave her a strange look. Something caught his attention. "There's something on your cheek," he said, reaching for it, thinking that it was a piece of string or something. Before he could complete his reach, he found himself with his cheek plastered to the bar with that arm twisted behind his back. The woman had moved faster than he'd thought possible. "Don't touch me," she hissed in his ear. "I thought this place has a non-violence thing on it." "That only works if you intend to hurt someone. This was meant as a warning," she explained, using a tone one would typically take with a small child. "If you try and touch me again, I will hurt you." "You're fast," Krycek said admiringly as he tried to pull away. When he couldn't he added, "Strong, too." "I don't take compliments well," she told him, letting him go. He moved away from the bar, rubbing his cheek. "Why's that?" She glared at him. "You're awfully curious. It'll get you killed one of these days." "Oh come on, Riles," Fred said, walking over. "You know curiosity only kills cats." She stared at the other girl. "Huh?" "Well, curiosity killed the cat and as you can see, he's clearly a rat." Everyone stared at Fred. Mulder started laughing and when he saw the offended look on Krycek's face he laughed even louder. "Oh don't look so irritated, Krycek. I've been calling you a rat for years. You're just never around or not paying attention." "So you two don't like each other?" Cordelia asked, looking between Mulder and Krycek. "You could say that," they said in unison and then glared at each other. The blond who Fred had addressed as Riles threw her hands up in the air. "I've got better things to do with my time than stand here and watch a Cock fight," she said, walking out. Krycek started to go after her, but Fred stopped him. "That's not a good idea," she told him. "Why's that?" "It's not something I should talk about, but she doesn't particularly like men. As far as I know, she's always been like that." "You know her?" Gunn asked. "Why didn't you tell us you had hot friends?" "Because she prefers to be left alone. She's an old friend of mine, going back to the sixth grade. I met her two years before that, but we weren't friends then." "What's her name?" Mulder asked, barely containing his interest. "You called her Riles," Krycek said. "That sounds like a nickname." "It is, but I can't tell you her real name." "Why?" "She prefers not to have people know it, as if they know it they can find her and she doesn't want to be found." "She's a runaway, isn't she?" Scully concluded. "No. She just doesn't want people finding her house." "I see." Krycek looked at the door, an odd look in his face. "Private type." "Yes! That's it exactly." Fred smiled. "So I do strongly suggest that you leave her alone." "Sure, whatever," Krycek said, sounding distracted. He headed out the door. "I don't understand him." Mulder shook his head. "The man's a killer, working for some secret agency and yet all it takes is a pretty face to turn his brain to oatmeal." "Give him some credit, Mulder," Angel scolded. "He's only human after all." *** An alley behind Caritas She watched Krycek come out of Caritas and look around, searching for something. She ducked further into the shadows. Damn. He'd better not be looking for me. Slamming his face into the bar should've been a clear enough message. As he continued to look around, she gritted her teeth. There's only one solution to this problem. She stepped out of the alley she was hiding in and leaned against the wall. "Looking for something?" she snarled. He turned. "You could say that." "There's nothing out here that could possibly be interesting." He walked towards her, his green eyes fixed on her face. "You'd be wrong there." "Keep away from me," she warned. He stopped right in front of her, repressing his urge to touch her face and run his hands through her silky-looking hair. "Why?" "I don't like you." "You've only just met me." "Doesn't matter. I don't need to know you to dislike you." "That's hardly fair." "Life isn't fair. Cope." "You sound like you're speaking from personal experience." "That's none of your business!" she snapped. "You're angry. Looks like I've hit a nerve." "Leave me alone." His facial expression softened. "I'd much rather get to know you." She sighed in exasperation. "What did I tell you earlier about curiosity?" He ignored the question. "You seem like a nice girl." She laughed, a short, bitter sound. "I'm not." "What are you then?" "You don't want to know." "What if I do?" "Then you're either crazy or a fool," she said, turning away and taking a few steps before Krycek spoke up again. "What're you afraid of?" She stopped, pulled something out of her jacket and spun back towards Krycek, sending something flying towards him. The object was a small dagger and it pinned him to a wooden sign. The blade had sunk so deeply into the wood that he couldn't pull it out. She walked back, a flat look on her face. Gripping the hilt of the dagger, she brought her face close enough to his that he caught a whiff of a faint vanilla scent. He could also finally identify the color of her eyes: charcoal grey so dark that the iris could barely be seen. "I fear nothing," she whispered. "If you follow me again, it won't be your jacket that has holes put in it." She straightened, pulling the dagger out of the wood and putting it back where it came from. "Do you understand?" Krycek examined the hole in his jacket. "If you think this is enough of a deterrent, you're very sadly mistaken." "Just stay away from me," she said as she turned and walked away. As she walked away, Krycek allowed himself a small smile. At least she hadn't slammed him into the wall like he'd expected her to. On the other hand, there was now a hole in the sleeve of his leather jacket. That could be easily repaired or replaced. Despite her professed dislike of him, he wanted to know more. His nose was clogged with the smell of vanilla and he still felt warm from where she'd pressed against him in order to remove the blade from the wall. She'd felt soft yet muscular, as if she worked out on occasion. She was definitely strong, maybe a little stronger than he was. The others came out of Caritas then, interrupting his thoughts. Fred looked at him with a thoughtful look on her face. "I thought you'd figured out that it's a good idea to leave her alone," she said accusingly. "I just came out to see if I could hail a taxi and she came out of the alley," he said simply. "She started it, not me." "Really? Then explain why there's a hole in your jacket." He looked down at his sleeve and then back at Fred. "I asked a simple question and she threw a knife at me." "You're lucky to still be breathing properly. I know how good her aim is. Lucky for you it's called murder if she throws a knife into your throat." Krycek went a little pale and Mulder looked very interested. "Would her aim be good enough to do something like this?" Mulder showed her a picture of a demon body with multiple stab wounds. Angel took a look. "Y'know, something tells me that this one was killed by stabbing, not by someone throwing things at it." He looked up. "I know a few things about causing pain." "I don't think she's the hunter anyways," Wesley added. "She doesn't quite have the physique to be doing that." "Neither does Buffy," Cordelia reminded him. "I've seen her take down really large things that she shouldn't have been able to." "She's also the Slayer. There are only two Slayers. Faith and Buffy." "Something just occurred to me," Angel said suddenly. "Buffy died for two minutes and Kendra was called. Kendra died and Faith was called. Buffy died again not to long ago and Willow brought her back. A third Slayer must have been called in her absence? What if it's this girl?" Scully threw her hands up in the air. "This is just too much. Don't tell me that you buy any of this Chosen One stuff Mulder." "Actually, I'm with you on this one Scully. This is definitely the strangest thing anyone's asked me to believe." "Stranger than aliens?" Gunn asked. "I've seen aliens." "Sure you have," he said with a patronizing smile on his face. "Riley isn't a Slayer," Fred told them. "You know this for sure? Without a doubt?" Angel asked her. "Like I said, I've known her for a long time. We had dinner together a few nights ago. She would've said something if she had been Chosen. She knows what I do, who I work for. It would be useful for us to know if there was a Slayer in town. Besides," Fred shrugged. "It's a statistical improbability for there to be three Slayers in this area. I mean, Faith's in jail here and Buffy's down in Sunnydale. In all likelihood, the new Slayer would be elsewhere, maybe in Europe or Asia, or maybe even Africa like Kendra was." "Hmm. So much for that theory." Angel sighed. "So we're back to either very strong or demon hunter." "Or both," Wesley added. "I was once a rogue demon hunter, so I know a few things about the profession." Cordelia snorted. "Yeah, and we all know how well you did at that." Angel snickered as well while the others exchanged confused looks. Wesley looked hurt. "I'll have you know that I took down several demons before I joined up with Angel investigations." "Sure, Wes. Whatever you say," Angel said, trying to keep a straight face. Krycek wasn't really listening. He wandered off down the street, hands in his jacket pockets. They watched him go. "He's acting really strangely," Scully observed. "If I'd known that all it took to turn his brain to mush was a pretty face, I would have used it against him a long time ago," Mulder commented. "It would be a lot easier to get information out of him about the Cancer Man and other things." "Mulder!" Scully scolded. "How would you like it if someone did that to you?" "I'd enjoy it more than someone slamming me into a wall and holding a gun to my head." "Touché," she agreed. As they went their separate ways, Fred lagged behind the others, lost in thought. Should I have told them what I know? Or was it enough to tell them she's not a Slayer? It'll have to be. I don't know how much I should tell them. I know how Riley feels about people interfering in her personal life. I'll have to talk to her about it the next time I see her. *** File 05: Identity Of A Killer Wolfram and Hart "Learn anything interesting, Lilah?" Linwood asked her. They were all at the daily staff meeting of their section. With the other business out of the way, they had time to bring the subject of the demon killer up. He hadn't had any luck in his searching the day before and it irritated him. "This man, Krycek, is certain that we're looking for a man, about five foot eight to five foot ten, lightly built with blond hair and an undetermined eye color. He uses a sword to kill his quarry, which explains the odd cuts on some of the bodies." "That cuts my theory out if the killer does prove to be a man," Linwood grumped. "See if you can find anything more out. Get any information you can out of him. I don't care what methods you use, just get it and get it fast. Meeting adjourned." Lilah let out the breath she'd been holding. She'd only been able to get pitifully little information and she'd been afraid that it wouldn't be enough. It was reassuring that Linwood hadn't had any success. She stood, gathering her notes. "That's all you got?" Lindsey asked her leaning in the doorway of the meeting room. "It's not very much." Lilah smirked. "No, but it's more than Linwood got and that's good enough for me. Besides, this Krycek fellow isn't bad looking. A bit much with the attitude, but you'd like him." "How do you figure?" "You can both relate on the missing arm bit." Lindsey scowled and she continued. "He had his left arm removed by some means. He didn't say as much, but he never moved it." "Very funny, Lilah." He held up his left arm and wiggled the fingers. "Remember the evil hand?" Recalling the memories of that time, she nodded, not letting him get to her. "So we have a lead on this killer now. What do we do about it?" "I have a source that I'll go talk to. He knows pretty much everything that goes on in the underground." "The host from Caritas?" "Yeah. You should try that sometime." "Thanks, but I don't sing," she said, shouldering past him and heading towards her office. Lindsey stared after her before heading to his own office. *** L.A.P.D Headquarters Kate Lockely looked up as Mulder and Scully walked towards her desk with grim looks on their faces. She put down the case report she was reviewing and stood to greet them. "Why so grim? Have you learned anything?" "No, but there was another body found early this morning near a condo complex," Scully said, sounding very tired. "Beside it was a lot of dust." "Dust," Lockely repeated. "Lots of dust," Mulder confirmed. "Does this mean anything to you?" "Normally, no, but based on the circumstances, it might. When you stake or behead a vampire, they turn to dust. If you light them on fire, same thing but it's a little different." "You know your stuff," Mulder commented. Lockely shrugged. "It comes with the territory." "If we assume that all that dust was the remains of one or more vampires, what would that mean?" "Damned if I know," Lockely grumped. "None of this is making any sense. Not that many of the cases I get involved in do, but this takes the cake." "Ever consider a career in the F.B.I?" Scully asked. "No, thank you. If I leave, who'll take these kinds of cases here?" "Right. Have you found anything new?" "No, unfortunately. Until you two came in with news of that new body, I had hoped that it was over with." She sighed. "I suppose not." "So Lorne is the only lead we have then," Scully said, rubbing her forehead. "Lorne who?" Lockely asked. "He runs a karaoke bar called Caritas. Ever heard of it?" "I can't say that I have. Karaoke isn't really my thing." "I agree with you there," Scully said repressing a grin. "Did this Lorne guy have anything useful to say?" "Apparently there's a demon hunter that's taken up residence here in L.A." Lockely gave Mulder a long look. "Demon hunter," she repeated. "Really? Vampires I get. Demons I get. But demon hunters? Who would be crazy enough to do something like that for a living? Yes, I know about Angel Investigations, but they're a group act and the way you said demon hunter implied a solo act." "That's what Lorne implied. He wasn't overly forthcoming with the details, but apparently it's a solo woman from a long line of hunters." Scully got a strange look on her face as she talked, one Mulder had never seen before and couldn't quite read. "We would have asked him some more questions but we were interrupted. Incidentally, you might want to know that there's a known killer in your city by the name of Alex Krycek. We saw him in Caritas talking to some lawyer." "If he's a killer, the lawyer was most likely from Wolfram and Hart." "How'd you figure that one out?" "Let's just say that they have a certain reputation and leave it at that. Anyways, what was it that interrupted you?" Scully jumped in before Mulder could even open his mouth. "A woman with blond hair and more curves than should be possible." "There's a lot of those in L.A," Lockely observed. "Yes, but how many are personally familiar with demons? And before you ask, Lorne and a girl named Fred claim that she isn't the hunter we're looking for." "Really? You believe them?" "With no other evidence to look at, we might as well believe them for now." Scully shrugged. "Besides, anyone who beats on Krycek rates high in my books," Mulder added with a grin. "This Krycek guy," Lockely said, slowly. "You said he's a killer. Mind telling me a bit more about him?" Mulder took a deep breath and told her all that they knew about Krycek, starting from his brief stint in the FBI and ending with a physical description. "The description of him sounds a lot like the guy who pulled a gun on me in the parking lot and tried to make me take him to the morgue." "What would he want at the morgue?" Mulder and Scully exchanged a puzzled look. "There's nothing there but-" Mulder started. "The weird bodies," Scully finished. "Why would he want to look at those?" The three of them stood in silence, pondering that question. Lockely looked up at Mulder. "Wait. Didn't you say that he worked for that Smoking Man? You said something about him belonging to some secret government organization. Maybe they have some interest in them." Scully thought about that for a minute. "I'd always thought of them as being more interested in extra terrestrials. I don't really see what they would get out of this. As to why they sent Krycek, that's even more puzzling. I'm sure they have their reasons." "I intend to find out just why he's here," Mulder growled. "I don't know what he's up to, but it certainly can't be any good." *** Wayside Motel Krycek rolled over and looked at the blurry red numbers on the bedside alarm clock. He rubbed his eyes and tried again. 11:00 am. He sat up with a start. He never slept this late. He got out of bed and went into the bathroom to splash his face with some cold water in an attempt to wake himself up. He looked at the face in the mirror. There were dark circles under the deep green eyes that weren't there yesterday. He shook his head and splashed some more water on his face. He forced himself to open his eyes, hoping that it would dispel the images from his dreams. When he blinked, he kept seeing the same image: the face of the blond woman from Caritas. In the image, she was looking at him with the wind teasing her hair, forming it into a golden halo. Her grey eyes had looked at him with a much softer look than they had outside the bar, her full lips parted slightly. Just thinking about that image and the dreams that had generated it made his heart race. He got into the shower as his breathing started to quicken. He turned the water on and clenched his teeth as the icy cold water poured over his heated skin. As his pulse gradually slowed, he heated the water up to a decent temperature. He stuck his head under the water to get his hair wet, but didn't wash it. All he could think about were his dreams. He climbed out of the shower, shaking his head and started to dry off. *This is ridiculous! I don't even know her name, let alone anything about her.* He went back out into the bedroom to find some clothes to wear. He put on the first things he could find: the black jeans he'd worn the night before. He couldn't find a shirt or socks, so he just did the jeans up and sat down on the edge of his bed and grabbed the remote from the bedside table and turned the TV on. Not that there was anything interesting on. He just couldn't stand the silence. The silence bored him and didn't help distract him from the previous night's dreams. Not having anything else to do, he turned to watch what was on. He halfheartedly flipped through the limited number of channels until he came across the news. They were showing a picture of another strange body that had been found that morning. It was yellow with weird spines on its head. That caught his attention. The reporter explained that no one really knew what these things were, but there were a lot of them. So far, the police weren't commenting on the situation. A knock on the door startled him. Krycek got up and looked through the view hole. Sighing, he unlatched the door and opened it. "What do you want?" he asked the woman standing outside. She shouldered her way past him. "You're awfully grumpy, aren't you?" Lilah Morgan commented, eyeing him slowly. "I repeat, what do you want?" "Not in the mood for small talk, either, I see. I have a proposal for you." "Really." "We've decided that the information you gave us is of some value. If you continue to provide us with such useful bits of information, we are willing to pay you for it." "What could you possibly give me that would be of any value to me?" "Perhaps a new arm would suit you." Krycek laughed. "That's quite funny. You can't give me back my arm." "Oh no? If we can give one of our own employees a replacement hand, I'm sure an arm isn't too much of a stretch." "Now I know you're making this up." "If you don't believe me, I'll introduce you to Lindsey MacDonald. His hand was removed a year ago and it was replaced not all that long ago." Krycek still looked skeptical. "Yeah, right." Lilah walked up close to him, so close she was almost right up against him. "Suspend your disbelief for one day. In fact, suspend it for one night. There's a party at Wolfram and Hart tonight. I require an escort. If I don't choose one, one will be chosen for me." She shrugged. "I'd rather pick my own. Come with me, talk to Lindsey about his hand. Have some good food. You could probably use it." She took a step back and eyes his still bare torso. "Or maybe not. You look healthy." Krycek simply stared down at her. It had been a long time since any woman had complemented him on his appearance. Most were too drunk to say anything. He had to admit that it was tempting. Access to decent food and a chance to talk to someone about his arm. The thought of having it back was almost too much for him. He nodded. "I'll come, but only to talk to this Lindsey person." That seemed to satisfy her. "You'll have to find yourself something nice to wear and at least pretend that you're with me. Just enough to convince the others. Beyond that, feel free to do whatever you want. I'll be back here to pick you up here at 7." She eyed him again before turning to leave. Krycek watched her go. Well, that had certainly been interesting. It wasn't every day that he got invited to a fancy party. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Lilah he was only in it to talk to Lindsey. He had no interest in Lilah whatsoever. Not that she wasn't an attractive woman; she just wasn't among the most attractive ones he'd seen. Unlike the blond... He shook his head. Forcing images of the blond woman out of his mind, he set about trying to find a shirt and some socks so that he could go out. As much as he hated formal wear, it was worth it if it led to the restoration of his arm. As he picked up his jacket, he shook his head again, trying not to get his hopes up in that regard. Replacing a new arm was about as likely as that blond woman showing up again. *** Production stage 12 "And cut! That's a wrap for today. Good job everyone. For tomorrow I'd like to do some more work on scene fourteen." The actors sighed. It had been a hard day's work on one of the minor scenes in the movie they were working on. Fight scenes were never easy to do and scene fourteen was one of the harder ones. They'd been training for it for weeks after their first attempt. The stunt and other actors muttered complaints under their breaths as they headed off to their dressing rooms to get out of their costumes, but one was looking forward to the next day's work. She sat down on the chair in front of the mirror in her dressing room and started to remove the layers of makeup. She hated the stuff, but it was a necessary part of her work. She'd been waiting impatiently for the director to decide that it was time to give fourteen another go. She got up to take her costume off just as there was a knock on the door. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she went to answer it, hoping that it wasn't important. She opened the door. "Great. What do *you* want?" The older man stared back at her. "You did well out there today," he said pleasantly. "And you didn't come all this way just to complement me on my acting abilities," she replied sourly. "May I come in?" "Only so that people don't see you and ask me uncomfortable questions." She stepped back to let him in. "Are you embarrassed to be seen around me?" "You're the black sheep of the family, so why shouldn't I?" "I promised that I would take care of you." "Fat lot of good that's done me," she sneered. "You haven't wanted me around." "I still don't. You've never done me any favors." He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'd like to change that." "It's a little late for that." "It's never too late to spend time with your family." "So now you want to be all buddy-buddy. Should I start calling you 'uncle' now, too?" "No need to go that far just yet." She sighed, pulling away. "What did you come here for?" "My company is having a party tonight. I'd like you to come." She folded her arms. "Why should I bore myself to tears at another one of these parties just so that you can present an image of a happy family life?" "There are some people in the firm that are your age. Maybe you'll like them, maybe you won't, but all I ask is that you give them a chance. Besides, there will be some good food and music there. It's not just with the firm, either. It's a charity thing." "If I come will you leave me alone after this?" "If you don't enjoy tonight, I'll leave you alone. If you do, let's spend more time together. Deal?" She eyed him suspiciously. "There's a catch to this." "No catch." He fished an envelope out of the pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. "This is for you." She opened the envelope. Inside was a wad of bills and a very familiar necklace. She ignored the money and held the white gold chain with its silver angel and obsidian pendant up to the light. "This was my mother's," she said softy. "Where did you get it?" "She forgot it at our mother's house the week before she died. It's been too hard for me to part with it until now. You should have it." She handed the envelope of money back to him. He refused to take it. "No. Use it to buy yourself something nice to wear to the party tonight. I'll pick you up at your apartment at 7:30." *** File 06: Dance With Me Wolfram and Hart Mulder and Scully looked around at the crowd containing Los Angeles's well-to-do dressed in their finest. Beside them stood Detective Lockely dressed in a plain red spaghetti-strap dress. She looked as bored as Scully felt. "Why are we here again?" Scully asked. She was wearing a scoop necked long green dress with long sleeves. It looked great on her. "I got word that Krycek was going to be here," Mulder replied. "I want to know why. What's his connection to Wolfram and Hart? Are they in some way associated with the Smoking Man?" Lockely sighed. "I know this guy's a killer, but you sound somewhat obsessed by this." "Don't start," Scully warned her, cutting off Mulder's reply. "Krycek is a rather sensitive subject with him." "Isn't that him over there?" Lockely pointed suddenly. They turned to look. Krycek had walked into the room with a brunette in a slinky black dress beside him. He was wearing a suit and looked distracted as did she. She poked him in the shoulder and led him over to a brown haired man who was also wearing a suit. He turned when they came over. From the look on his face, what he said to the brunette wasn't particularly nice. "I know you don't like him, Mulder, but you have to admit. He looks really nice in a suit," Scully observed. "I wonder what they're talking about," Mulder said, ignoring Scully's remark. "Now, now, Lindsey. That wasn't a very nice thing to say to a coworker," Lilah replied coolly, handing Krycek a drink from the table beside her and then taking one for herself. "What do you want, anyways?" Lindsey asked, sounding very bored. "I'd like you to meet Alex Krycek." Lindsey looked at Krycek. "You would be Lilah's source regarding the demon hunter." Krycek nodded. "You must be Lindsey MacDonald, the guy who had a hand replaced." "You've done your homework," Lindsey said, surprised. "Not really. Lilah told me. The only reason I'm here is to talk to you about that." Lindsey looked down at Krycek's hands and easily spotted the fake one. "I can say with complete confidence that I know exactly how that feels." Lilah smirked. "I'll leave you two boys to talk while I go be social," she said and walked away. Lindsey watched her go. "So this is how Lilah gets dates. I didn't think she would stoop to bribery, though." "So what's the deal with your arm?" "Getting straight to the point. I respect that. What do you want to know first?" "What happened to it?" "Ah. A year or so ago, our firm was trying to retrieve something of ours. Angel and his group got involved as they wanted the same thing. Things got hairy and I wound up with the thing in my hand, trying to destroy it to keep it away from him. He took exception to this and cut off my hand right about here with a sword of some sort," he said, indicating the spot on his forearm. "At least you had a sword. Mine was sawed off by a bunch of Russians who said that they'd keep me safe." Lindsey winced. "Ouch." "How did you get it back?" Krycek continued. "A former employee of our firm, Holland Manners, set up a doctor's appointment for me without telling me what it was for. When I woke up, I had a new arm. I'm told that there was a shaman of some sort involved in the process. I met the arm donor and destroyed him at his request along with the rest of the donor bank. Knowing the firm, though, they have others. Law is a hazardous line of work." Krycek wisely didn't say anything about that. "I'm told that if I provide useful information to the firm that I could get my arm back. What you've told me isn't the strangest thing I've ever heard, but it comes close." Lindsey eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you anyways? I know your name, but what is it, exactly, that you do?" "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you." Lindsey laughed. "I'm serious. It's part of what I do." Lindsey looked like he wanted to ask more, but something behind Krycek caught his attention. "Now there's something I haven't seen in a long time." Krycek turned and nearly dropped his drink. It was her. The blond from Caritas, the same woman who had haunted his dreams the night before. She was with a much older man and seemed rather unhappy about it. He turned to Lindsey. "You know her?" he asked, hoping that he had a name. "Her name is Riley Hunter. The man with her is Linwood, a representative of the Senior partners. I'm not sure what their relationship is, but she can't stand him." He eyed Krycek. "That's a very odd look on your face. Is something wrong?" "I've seen her before. She put a hole in my jacket." "Let me guess, you tried to flirt with her and she threw a knife at you." "How'd you guess?" "It's how she works. She hasn't thrown a knife at me yet, but I haven't really given her much reason to." He turned his gaze back to Riley. "That dress looks absolutely fabulous on her." Krycek blinked and looked at what she was wearing. He'd been too shocked to see her again that he hadn't really noticed. Her blond hair was left loose and it looked like she wasn't wearing any make up. She had some teardrop shaped obsidian earrings that matched part of the pendant she wore on a white gold chain around her neck. Her dress was velvet in a very dark red with thick, off the shoulder straps. The dress was floor length. It was tight around her upper body and got looser the closer to the ground it got. The skirt of the dress swirled lightly as she walked, revealing the black pumps that she wore on her surprisingly small feet. "She's even more beautiful than she was the last time I saw her," Krycek breathed, taking a step towards her. Lindsey stopped him. "She hates these sorts of things about as much as she hates men. Talking to men will only irritate her more, especially if she's already indicated that she doesn't like you." Krycek wasn't listening. He shrugged Lindsey's hand off and headed in Riley's direction. Lindsey sighed. "Well, I tried to warn him." Riley was bored. Not just a regular bored, but absolutely mind numbingly bored. She leaned against a wall with a glass in one hand, staring contemptuously at the swarm of people. She wished that she was anywhere but in that hall. She had no problem with a charity benefit party, but after countless similar parties with all of the same people in attendance, it started to get old. With a casual glance, she could pick out the people she wanted to avoid, people her uncle worked with, and the odd new face. She frowned. There were a few faces that were new but looked somewhat familiar. She shrugged. They were probably affiliated with the studio that she was currently working with. With that thought in mind, she decided to avoid them. Looking at the clock on the wall near her, she decided that she'd stay for a couple hours. That was enough time to be considered social, but after that, she'd leave. Satisfied with that, she took a sip of her drink. "Hi there," a polite voice said from beside her. Riley chocked back the small sip and turned to rebuke the speaker. She rolled her eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?" Krycek looked at her, holding a drink in his hand. "I was invited. Honestly, I was quite surprised to see you here. You didn't seem like the kind of person that would come to something like this." "Yes, because you know so very much about me," Riley said with a voice dripping with sarcasm. She took another sip. "Although, you don't seem like this type, either." "And what, exactly, would you say that my type of person is?" Krycek asked her. He surprised himself in that he was actually interested in the answer; he wasn't just making conversation. Riley gave him an odd look. "You really want to know?" He nodded. "You look like the least civilized person I've ever seen, and I've been around. Based on what I've seen of you, I'd say that you deal in violence, possibly even to the point of killing people. As for your type, you strike me as being very rat-like." "Why do people insist on labeling me as a rat?" he grumped. "It's something in your facial features." She shook her head. "Why do you care what I think anyways?" "I think you're interesting." "I'm dangerous, too," she reminded him. "I'm thinking that there are too many people here for you to be throwing knives at me. Assuming, of course, that you have any room under that dress to hide one." Riley narrowed her eyes. "I'd stop that thought there if I were you," she warned. He leaned closer to her. "Or what? You'll pull whatever knife you have hidden under there on me? Throw me over your shoulder? Again, I think that there are too many people here for that." Before Riley could reply to that, the man she'd come in with walked over with a big smile on his face. "Riley! I see that you've made a new friend. Why don't you two go share a dance?" "But-" she started to protest. He shook his head. "No buts, Riley. Go on. Dance. There's no need to be shy about it." He walked behind them and gave them a push towards the floor where other couples were already dancing. Krycek gave in easily enough and took Riley's arm. She looked extremely unhappy about the whole business. When they reached the floor, she leaned forward. "If you try anything, I'll find you, rip your arms off, and beat you to death with them," she hissed in his ear. "I never had any intention to try anything," he whispered back. He felt an electric shock go up his arm as he took her hand, placing his prosthetic one on her waist, hoping that she wouldn't notice. She looked uncomfortable enough as it was. "I only wanted to get to know you. Like I said, you're an interesting person." She looked away from him. "I'm not really that interesting." She sounded almost sad at that. "Really? Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself and let me form my own opinion?" "There's no reason to tell you anything. I don't expect to ever see you again or have anything to do with you when this dance is over with." "That's what I thought about you at first, but then I saw you here," he pointed out. "That's beside the point." "What is the point?" "I don't like you." "Why? What is it about me that you don't like?" "It starts with your Y chromosome and works its way up to the killing thing." "I never said that I'd killed anyone." "Ah, but you didn't deny it either. I don't respect anyone who takes human lives." Krycek thought about that. "Not at all?" "What reason could I possibly have to do so? There are so few acceptable reasons to kill someone or order their death that the chances of you having one are astronomically low." "I'm not entirely sure how to reply to that," he admitted. "I can't say that I like what I do. I get my orders and I carry them out with whatever means are necessary. Sometimes I have to kill. It's just a part of the job." Riley looked slightly taken aback. "At least you're honest about that." "This is really unfair. You know what I do, but I still know nothing about you." "If you must know, I'm an actor." "That sounds interesting." "It's not as great as you'd think. It's tedious and mind numbing. I hate crowds, and yet my job forces me to deal with them. Never mind my uncle, who's always trying to get me to come to these things or set me up with some associate of his or another." "Rough life," he commented sarcastically. "You look like you came from the upper levels of society." "What's it to you?" "What do you really know about hardship?" "More than you think." The song ended then and Riley pulled away. "I've had enough of this. I don't care what my uncle thinks. Don't try and find me," she warned, leaving the ball room and going outside onto the patio in front of the building with every intent on going to her car. No one else was out there, so she decided to stay there for a little while. The night air was a bit cooler than she liked and she shivered a little as she headed over to lean on a railing. She hadn't brought a coat with her and was now regretting it. Krycek followed, stopping at the doorway. He watched her, leaning against the wall. The wind picked up slightly and teased her hair and played with the hem of her dress. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out where, if at all, she could have hidden a knife. He shook his head. That hardly mattered. He walked over to her and she spun around, eyes blazing. "I thought I told you not to follow me," she hissed angrily. "You look cold," he said, ignoring her anger. "What's it to you?" "I can't stand to see a woman suffer," he told her plainly and took his jacket off, and putting it on her. "You could catch a cold dressed the way you are." She glared at him. "I didn't ask for your help. Besides, my car is just over there. I was going to head over there before you interrupted me." "I'm not stopping you," he told her. "I just didn't want you to get cold." "It's not even that cold out here." Krycek rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards her. She stiffened, but didn't move away. "Oh please. There's no need to be so stubborn. Look at you. You're wearing less than I am and I'm freezing out here. I'm used to suffering like this, but you don't look like you are. You look like you haven't seen any hardships in your life at all." He reached forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. She slapped it away. "You know nothing about what my life is like, so don't you dare to presume anything about me!" "If you would tell something about yourself maybe I wouldn't irritate you so much by making those kinds of presumptions," Krycek suggested. This only irritated her more. "You are the most infuriating man I've ever met!" "Well, at least I rank somewhere in your life." Before she could make any sort of a reply to that, a large group of people with misshapen faces headed towards them, clearly making a beeline for Riley and ignoring Krycek completely. He stared at them, not really knowing what to think. Riley, on the other hand, tensed. *** File 07: Vampires Wolfram and Hart Before she could make any sort of a reply to that, a large group of people with misshapen faces headed towards them, clearly making a beeline for Riley and ignoring Krycek completely. He stared at them, not really knowing what to think. Riley, on the other hand, tensed. "Perfect," she muttered. "Just perfect." She grabbed Krycek's hand and dragged him after her as she ran for her car. Shock kept him from objecting to this treatment. The group followed, quickening their pace. When they got to Riley's car, she told him to get in as he got into the driver's side and started the engine. As soon as he was in, she pulled out of her parking space and headed off, hitting a few of her pursuers as she went. Krycek looked behind them. "Are you nuts? You just ran over those people!" "They aren't people," she informed him coldly. "Not any more." "What were they then?" She laughed, a short and bitter sounding laugh. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." "I've seen a lot of strange things in my life. You'd be amazed at what I'll believe." "How about vampires?" "Now you sound like an F.B.I agent that I know." He thought about that for a minute. "On the other hand, I have actually met a vampire recently." Riley looked at him. "Let me guess. Angel." "How did you know? Do you know him?" "I have a stake in my apartment with his name carved into it just in case he goes evil on us again. Remember the night you met me at Caritas? Fred is a good friend of mine. I knew of Angel before that, but it didn't really concern me until three years ago when he first came to L.A." He leaned back in his seat. "So Riles is short for Riley, huh? Makes sense now that I now your name." "I've been wondering about that. How did you learn my name?" "A guy named Lindsey told me." Riley shuddered at the mention of that name. She pulled the car into the parking lot of a condo complex. "Lindsey MacDonald. Generally speaking, I don't like men, but my hatred of him goes far beyond that." He looked around. "Where are we anyways?" "Before I tell you, let me say that if I ever see you around here after this, I will hurt you quite badly. This is where I live. This is showing you a lot more trust than you deserve, mind, and if it weren't for the vampires I would never have let you into my car, never mind brought you home." "I'm wondering why you did." She eyed him coldly. "I don't like you, but I'll be damned if I hand a meal over to those things." She got out of the car, gesturing for him to follow. Curious, he did so. It was late enough that there was no doorman on duty, for which Riley was eternally grateful. The doormen knew her well enough that there would be raised eye brows at the sight of a man coming home with her. They went into the central building and into an elevator. She pressed the button for the top floor and waited for it to go up. The door opened into a short hallway with a door at the end. It was the only one there. She opened it and went inside. Upon entering the condo, Riley vanished down a hallway, leaving Krycek to stay in the living room. Not knowing what else to do and feeling really out of place, he took off his shoes and sat down on the larger couch to wait for Riley to come back out. He looked around taking a good look at her home. It was sparsely yet tastefully furnished with the odd picture on the walls. In front of the larger couch was a home theater system in between two tall and very full shelving units containing a wide assortment of books and videos. On top of the TV was a picture frame. When he took a closer look at it, he saw a picture of a beautiful woman that looked a lot like Riley and a girl who was roughly about twelve years old. They both looked very happy. Riley came back out, dressed in a loose pair of blue jeans and a baggy grey hooded sweatshirt that zipped up in the front. She sat down in the armchair to the right of the couch and out her feet up on the footstool in front of her, looking at Krycek. "So," she started, and then stopped, unsure of how to continue. "Nice place," he said politely. He gestured at the picture. "Who are they?" She followed his gaze and her face turned sad. "That's me and my mother on my fourteenth birthday." "You look a lot alike. You were a cute kid, too." "People are always telling me that. It gets annoying." "Sorry. I just don't know what to say around you." At her raised eyebrow, he clarified. "If I say what I want to say, there's a high chance that the knife won't go through my jacket but through my skin. Without those, and knowing as little about you as I do, I have no idea what to say to you." "Based on what you just said I have a pretty good idea of what you want to say as well as what you're thinking." He folded his arms. "If you think you know what I want to say, tell me. Prove it." She got up. "Let me guess," she said as she slunk towards him. "You're thinking that I'm extremely attractive, possibly irresistible. I'm not as sure about that one as it varies from person to person. You're wondering if my skin is as soft as it looks, if my hair feels nice." She put one knee down on the couch, brushing his thigh and put her hands on either side of his head, leaning forward. "Based on what I know about you, you're likely wanting to tell me that you enjoyed dancing with me, that you would like to do more than just dance." She brought her face right up to his, so close that he could feel her breath on his skin. The smell of vanilla filled his nose. "Have I forgotten anything?" "Just one," he said, bringing his face towards her and kissing her. Her body went rigid with shock. He kept waiting for her to pull away, but when she didn't, it surprised him. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair. It felt like silk, but he didn't get much of a chance to feel it as the contact broke her out of her shock. She pulled away and slapped him. Hard. When he turned to look back at her, there was some moisture underneath her eyes and she glared at him furiously. "I'm starting to regret my decision to keep you from becoming a meal for that group of vampires." He stared at her. "What's wrong?" Her anger turned into shock. "What's wrong? You kiss me and then touch me and you ask me what's wrong? Are you some kind of an idiot? I've told you that I don't like men. And no, it's not that I swing the other way, so don't even entertain that line of thinking. What excuse could you possibly have for doing that?" "I know I don't know much about you. I've told you so and you've told me so. Despite that, I like you. I want to know more about you." He stood up. "Why is it so hard for you to see that? Frankly, I don't care about the physical. When it comes right down to it, I just want to know more about you, be your friend." She shook her head. "That's how it always starts. A man decides that he wants to be my friend and assures me that that's as far as it'll go. It works for a while, but because of how I act when I get relaxed around people, he takes it the completely wrong way and tries to take things further. It's fortunate that my mother taught me how to defend myself at an early age. Who knows what would have happened to me otherwise?" "I never said that it wouldn't go any further. It might, it might not. Who knows? All I want is to get to know you. It just might turn out that I don't like you as much as I think I do, but you won't even give me a chance to find out." Her expression softened and she relaxed a little. "You aren't just trying to get some like every other being in possession of a y chromosome?" "That *is* kind of the male thing," he informed her. "Aside from that, no. I wouldn't say no if it came up. It's just the way we're wired. It isn't my intention to try anything." "I feel less weird about having you in here in light of that." She paused, fidgeting. "Thank you," she said softly. "For what?" "For being honest about this," she said taking a step towards him. "Few men are actually honest with me, so few that when it happens it surprises me." "I see no reason to lie to you. That's counter productive if I want to get to know you better, now isn't it?" She smiled. "I suppose it is." "You should do that more." "Do what?" He placed his right hand on her cheek. "Smile," he told her before kissing her gently, sliding his hand down her neck and into her hair. She didn't pull away this time, but moved closer, leaning into the kiss. She brought her hands up and wrapped one around his waist and placed the other on his cheek. As the kiss intensified, his hand slid down the middle of her back to her waist, going under the sweatshirt. Finding a thin silky top underneath, he manipulated it so that he could get his hand under it. When his hand touched her skin, she stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, pulling away from the kiss. "Hell of a way to start a friendship," she breathed. "There's nothing wrong with a friendly kiss." She ran her hand from his check down to his chest. "There was nothing friendly about that." "Oh, I don't know about that," he said, moving his hand up to stroke her cheek. "I think it was quite friendly." He kissed her again, this time with more urgency. His hand moved through her hair, down her back, and to the zipper of her sweatshirt. He hesitated before unzipping it and going for the shirt underneath. It was a low cut, button up. Beneath it he could feel her lace bra. His hand slipped down her front and around to the back, going up under the shirt and upwards to the spot where her bra was. He caressed the skin underneath the fastener before deftly undoing the clasp. For her part, Riley wasn't terribly sure what to make of all of this. When he kissed her again, she let him, enjoying his smell and the feel of his lips on hers and his hand in her hair. She didn't mind so much when he undid her sweatshirt, not even when his hand went down her front. It hadn't been an unpleasant sensation, just not one that she'd ever enjoyed before now. Her hands had stayed near his face the first time, but were now on his back under his shirt. There were scars there, but she expected that. She pulled one hand out and ran it over his chest. He tried to pull her closer to him. A soft moan escaped his lips as she pulled back a little. He tried again and failed, though he was hardly going to complain when her free hand went up the front of his shirt. It tickled a little, but it felt good. After teasing him a little, both of her hands pulled out and moved to his shoulders. As she slowly ran her hands up and down his biceps, he got tense. "Is something wrong?" she asked him, kissing his neck. "No, nothing at all," he whispered back to her, tilting his head backwards as her lips played over his skin. He brought it back down and met her parted lips, loosing himself in her sweet vanilla scent. He didn't even notice her hands moving down his arms, so it was a big surprise, when she pulled away and took a couple steps backwards. "So," she said, going from sweet and friendly back to how she'd been before. "That's what you were hiding from me." "I don't know what you're talking about." She gestured at his left arm. "That hand is fake. Why didn't you tell me?" He sighed. "You know, I was really, really hoping that you wouldn't notice. Some people have a real problem with that." He pulled back the sleeve of his left arm and showed her his prosthetic arm. Riley recoiled from it. "Great. Why do I attract men with missing limbs? This is getting really irritating." "Before you decide to have nothing to do with me, will you at least let me tell you about it?" "As long as it doesn't involve vampires or demons," she said, sitting down as far away from him as she could. Krycek sat back down and pulled the sleeve back into place. "I was in Russia near a place called Tunguska. Ever heard of it? Didn't think so. Anyways, it's kind of a weird story, but I was trying to escape and get back home when a group of people offered me shelter and protection." He snorted. "Some protection. They took my arm off and called it protection. I was angry about it for a while, but have since gotten used to it." Riley folded her arms across her chest. "Why don't you talk to Wolfram and Hart? They could help you get it back." "You know about that?" "Of course I do. My uncle works for them. Besides that, he's been trying to set me up with Lindsey for who knows how long. I knew Lindsey lost his arm, so when he showed up one day with a new one, I figured it out." Her voice took on a bitter tone. "How could they do that? The arm was taken from another man and given it to him as some sort of a reward. But is it really a reward to mutilate another man to restore another?" Krycek looked thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but look at it from our perspective. What would you give to be able to hold a loved one in both hands rather than just one? What would you do to another person to be able to do things requiring two hands after living with only one for any length of time? Maybe it's just me, but I would do just about anything to have my arm back." Riley studied her hands, not saying anything for a long time. He was afraid that he'd scared her off. Finally, she looked up at him. "You can stay here tonight to avoid being eaten by vampires, but I don't want to see you here in the morning. Be gone before ten. Don't come near me ever again." She got up and left, returning with some blankets and a pillow. "You can use the couch." "That's it?" he asked. "After all of that, you're just going to refuse to have anything to do with me?" "That's right," she told him coldly. "Good bye, Krycek." She turned her back on him and walked down the hallway into her bedroom and closed the door. He heard the faint click of a lock. That made little sense to him. Why did she have a lock on her door? He shook his head. That hardly mattered. He stared down the hallway, not knowing really what to make about this. He went back over to the couch and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around himself. He didn't lie down, but sat down in the chair Riley had sat in. Lost in thought, he sat there until the sun came up. He got up then and went into the bathroom to splash his face with some cold water. In the bathroom, he found a glass bowl full of bath pearls, also scented with vanilla. He grabbed a couple and slipped them into his pants pocket along with a few strands of hair he found in her brush. He turned to leave, but something else caught his attention. In the garbage can, there were some white bandages that were stained with dark red blood. He pulled one out and took a closer look. The bandage looked like one that you would have wrapped around a limb. The next one he pulled out was long enough to have been wrapped around her torso. He put that one back and took the shorter one, figuring that she would be less likely to notice that it wasn't there. Finished, he went out into the front entrance, put his shoes back on, and left the building, hailing a cab to take him back to his motel. *** File 08: Investigating Wayside Motel When Krycek got back to his motel room, he found Lilah sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for him with her legs crossed. Hiding his annoyance, he closed the door behind him and tossed his jacket down on a chair. "What do you want?" he asked coldly. She uncrossed her legs and stood up, slinking towards him. "You left the party without saying goodbye," she said casually. "It's not very nice to abandon a woman like that." "I only went to talk to Lindsey," he replied. "I didn't go as your date, so I had no obligation to you whatsoever." She gave him an appraising look. "Where did you go last night?" "None of your damn business." Lilah moved closer to him and traced a finger lazily across his chest. "My, my, aren't we testy? Did you get much sleep last night?" She laughed when he tensed up. "I'll take that as a no. Did you find some woman who would look past your disability? Didn't think so. You see, not many people are willing to let a thing like that slide." "And I suppose you are?" he sneered, pushing her away. Undaunted, she continued, coming back closer to him. "There are worse things in life than a missing arm. You're no less a man because of it." Lilah slid her hands down his chest to his waist. "Anyone who says otherwise is a fool." "Get out," he told her. "I'm too tired to deal with you right now." "Is that so?" she asked, caressing his hips and butt. "I have a hard time believing you." Even though he had no feelings for Lilah whatsoever, he found himself interested in what she was implying. The frustration at dealing with Riley the night before added fuel to the fire. When Lilah slid her hands forward to his belt, he snapped, spinning her around and slamming her into the wall. It surprised her momentarily, but she came back to her senses as Krycek crushed her underneath him, covering her mouth with his own. She fumbled with his belt buckle, letting his pants and underwear drop to the floor. After stepping out of them, he forced her over onto the bed and pushed her short skirt up around her hips. He lowered himself onto her, not caring if he hurt her or even if she was ready for it. It was over quickly, faster than Lilah had thought. He got off her and again told her to get out. She stood up, pulling her skirt back down as he collapsed onto the mattress, falling asleep almost instantly. She grabbed her jacket and slid out, a rare smile spreading across her face. She hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer so quickly. The fact that he had confirmed all of her suspicions. Her informant at the party the night before had mentioned that Krycek had left with a woman that fit Riley's description. That had struck her as being odd. Everyone at Wolfram and Hart that had met her knew how she felt about men, especially ones with missing limbs. That prejudice was based on an encounter she'd had with Lindsey a year ago. As near as Lilah could tell, she knew no other men with missing body parts. It was a bit of a surprise to learn that Riley held that against Krycek as well. That Krycek was attracted to Riley wasn't a large surprise. Lilah had yet to meet a man who wasn't attracted to the blond actress. Judging by his response and the frustration she'd seen on his face, she refused him. Why she even allowed him to leave the party with her was one of the unknowns, along with just what had happened to frustrate him that much. Whatever it was, it had worked to her advantage. She was still smiling as she climbed into her car and drove away. Crown Palace Hotel Mulder let a sighing Scully into his room. She sat down in a chair and looked at her partner. "What are we doing here, Mulder?" "We're investigating those weird bodies, remember?" He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her, concerned. "Are you ok, Scully?" "We haven't heard any reports of any more new ones and my examinations haven't shed any light as to what's going on here." "We've had cases like this before, remember? We just have to keep searching. If you ask me, I think the answer to this puzzle lies with whoever's been killing those things. I'm not sure if I want to call it murder or what." Scully gave him a weak smile. "Now if only there was something on the bodies to lead us to the killer." "All I can tell you is what I've mentioned before. The wounds were made with a sharp blade." "Why don't we have another talk with Detective Lockely?" Mulder suggested. "Anyone with a weapon that could make those kinds of wounds must be on record somewhere for possessing it." "It's a long shot, Mulder. There are people who collect swords, but don't have to register them." "No, but if they actually use them or take classes, there should be a list somewhere," he insisted. "At the very least, we could check out weaponry shops. A sword or knife needs to be sharpened somehow." Scully nodded thoughtfully. "With a weapon that's being used to kill, I would assume that the owner would go to a specialized shop to get supplies. Killers are picky individuals when it comes to their weapons, especially ones that go after the same targets. If these were people, I'd use the term 'serial killer'." "I'd use it anyway." "I'll go talk to Detective Lockely if you'll have a look at weaponry classes and shops," she suggested. "Deal. Let's meet at that Italian place we saw the other day near the police station for lunch and share our findings." "Let's say 1:30?" "Sounds good." *** The Blade's Edge Mulder walked into the last shop on his list that sold swords, daggers, and anything related to them. It was a small shop tucked away in an alley way. He would never have found it if he hadn't been looking for it. The owner, a stern looking woman looking to be in her late fifties looked up as he walked in. "May I help you?" He cleared his throat. "I'm Special Agent Mulder with the F.B.I," he informed her, showing her his badge. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." She looked startled. "I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I'll try." He showed her a photo of a demon with deep slash marks. "Could you tell me what kind of blade would make something like that?" She took it and examined it carefully. "I'd say it was likely a long sword, but it could also have been made by a bastard sword. What kind of person are we talking about here? Who wielded the weapon?" "All we know is that it's a woman." She whistled appreciatively. "Whoever she is, she's strong to do this kind of damage." "Can you help us?" She lowered the picture. "I'm not sure what you think I can do, Agent Mulder. There are quite a few people in L.A who own weapons that could do this kind of damage." "If the weapon is being used to kill, it would get dull pretty fast, right? Killers are meticulous people and very picky when it comes to their weapons. This has all the classic hallmarks of a serial killer. You're the last store in L.A that sells sword supplies. Whoever this is would come in very frequently to restock." "You don't know much about blades, do you? A good sharpening stone would last for a while, even with constant use. There aren't really a lot of supplies needed for weapons. Stain remover perhaps, but you can get that at any hardware store." "It seems to me that if you're using a sword to kill, you're a pretty fussy person." "I don't carry stain remover. I do, however, carry things for oiling scabbards, whet stones, polish, belts, weapon racks, and edge guards to prevent injury in practice among other things. Those are just the ones most commonly purchased here." "I see." He thought about it for a minute. "Has there been a woman in here recently to purchase any polish or oils recently that would fit the physical description of someone who could inflict these kinds of injuries?" "Four." "Do any of them take classes?" "Two. I can guarantee that one of them isn't your killer, though." "How's that?" "She's an actor. The classes she's taking are to train her for action scenes in the movie she's making. While she's strong, she's not the type to go around swinging a sword. Besides that, I've seen her blade. It's a family heirloom, passed down for hundreds of years. You don't go around using that kind of weapon to kill things." "Does she have any other weapons that you know of?" "A few decorative knives, but those couldn't make these kinds of wounds." "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to get any information about these women from you. Names, phone numbers, location of their classes, anything you have. It might not get me anywhere, but I have to be sure." "You do realize that these women will be understandably upset about this?" she asked him as she took out a pen, a sheet of paper, and a thick binder. Flipping it open to the right page, she jotted down the information that Mulder had requested. "I'd rather annoy them and prove that none of them are the killer than not annoy them and have it turn out that it's one of them." The woman looked up from her writing. "I'm curious about something. Why are you so concerned about this? Those...those things are dangerous. This woman is doing us all a favor by getting rid of them. It's making the streets safer." "We're concerned that she'll turn from the dangerous ones to the ones that aren't. From there, she could easily go on to killing humans." She puzzled that over in her mind as she finished writing. "I can see your point," she admitted, handing him the slip of paper. "I don't know these women personally, nor do I know much about them. I have details for some that I don't have for others. The two that take classes go to the same place." "You've been very helpful. Thank you." "I hope that none of my customers are who you're looking for." Mulder gave her a smile. "I hope so, too, but at the same time, I hope we find her soon." She watched him leave the store. As soon as he was out of sight, she flipped the open sign over to the closed side and picked up the phone, dialing a number. It rang a couple times before someone picked up. "It's me. I just got a visit from an F.B.I agent. They're looking for you. He didn't ask if I knew who you were, so there was no lie. Don't worry. I'm just giving you a heads up." She paused, listening to the reply. "I understand. I'll keep my eyes and ears open and pass on anything new. Good hunting." *** L.A.P.D headquarters Kate Lockely gave Scully a questioning look. The request she's just made was understandable, but still bizarre. "Why do you need to know that?" "From my examinations, it appears that the cuts were made with a long bladed weapon. Mulder's busy on a related inquiry, but we figured it might help if you had a list or registry of anyone with that kind of weapon." "I'll have to go look," Kate told her. "I know that there's a gun registry, but not if there's one for swords." Scully sighed, trying to contain her impatience. All she wanted at this point was to just go back home. No matter what Mulder said, she still felt that this was an enormous waste of time and energy. These things were monsters that would only hurt people. It was good that they were dead. Wasn't it? The ringing of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. "Scully," she answered. "Hey Scully, it's me," Mulder said over his phone. "I think I have a couple leads. I'm going to talk to one, maybe two of them before I meet you for lunch, so I might be a bit late. Ok?" "That's fine Mulder. Take your time." "Thanks. How're things going on your end?" "Detective Lockely is checking to see if there is a registry. I went back and had a look at the bodies before coming here. Mulder, some of them have dissolved and others look like they haven't decomposed at all." "Weird. Maybe we should talk to that Angel guy about that. He sounded pretty knowledgeable about all this." "Sounds good. He lives at the Hyperion right?" "I think so." "I'll head over there when I'm done here. It's not far." "Ok. See you at lunch then." Kate came back and sat down at her desk just as Scully hung up with Mulder. "I'm afraid that there isn't any such registry. Not here at least. I'm sorry that I can't be more help." "It's ok. Mulder says he's got a few leads. Thank you for your time, Detective." *** Hyperion Hotel Scully walked into the old hotel, looking around. It looked well-kept and clean, but it seemed very hollow and quiet. Hotels were supposed to be filled with people with all the sounds that came with it, but it was a little too quiet in here. She walked up to the front counter and rang the bell. The brunette with the glasses, Fred, came over. "You're that F.B.I lady, aren't you? Agent Scully, right?" "Yes, that's right. I was wondering if I could talk to someone about those bodies?" "Sure. Wes and Angel are in the office right now. Here, I'll take you." Scully followed Fred into a room with a desk and a lot of books. This must be the office Fred had mentioned, even though it didn't really look like much of one. Wesley and Angel looked up. "Agent Scully," Wesley said warmly, getting up and pulling a chair for her to sit in. "What can we do for you?" She sat down. "I went down to the morgue today to have a look at those bodies and I noticed something odd. Some had dissolved and others don't show any sign of decay." "Ah. Different demon species decay at different rates. Some, like vampires, vanish instantly. Others take a very long time to do so. What you saw was a good example of it. It's because of this that we're having a very hard time determining just how many demons have been killed as well as how long this has been going on." "You know more about these things than Mulder and I. Have you noticed any sort of pattern to them?" "Aside form the weapon used and the fact that these are all dangerous demon species, there isn't any. It's almost as if the Hunter were just happening upon a demon and slaying it, regardless of whether or not it's a vampire or baby killer," Angel told her. "Frankly, I'm amazed that she's letting Angel live, whoever she is," Wesley continued. "Anyone who deals in demon slaying knows about Angelus and Darla. Darla's dead now, but Angel isn't. It might just be that he has a soul that's keeping him alive." "Anyone who would want me dead wouldn't stop because of a little thing like that, Wes," Angel reminded him. "She might just be waiting for you to slip up, to loose your soul and return to your former self." "Good point," the vampire conceded. "I just wish we had more to go on here," Wesley sighed. "All we know is that we're looking for a strong blond with a sword that isn't Buffy Summers. She's still in Sunnydale." "That's the Slayer, right?" Scully asked. "Yes, one of two. Faith isn't blond, not does she have access to any weapons, so she's right out." "Mulder thinks he has a few leads, but he didn't say much more than that." "Well, good luck with your investigation," Angel said. "If you need anymore help, you know where to find us." She stood up. "Thanks for your help. I'll be in touch, let you know what we find. You might be able to put it together better than we could." Fred watched Scully leave the hotel and bit her lip, unsure of what to do. It was getting harder and harder to keep what she knew to herself. Was it really still a good idea to keep it a secret? She hadn't been able to get a hold of Riley and let her know what was going on. For an actress, the other woman had some surprising bits of information and knew the oddest people. She would be able to help her out. She looked up at the clock. It wouldn't do her any good to call now. Riley was at work doing who knew what. She wouldn't even get around to checking her messages for another few hours. Fred decided to wait until then before calling. *** Training Studio It had taken a little convincing to get himself admitted into the area, but he was in and that was all that mattered, really. He stood against a wall, watching a group of men practice a fight scene with padded sticks and sparring pads. Even with the pads on, they all looked like they'd have a few bruises from the session. A brief inquiry to the trainer assured him that he hadn't missed the woman's sword practice. This was the third out of the four names on his list, the last one he was going to look into before meeting Scully for lunch. Five minutes later, the men put their weapons away and headed for the locker rooms. Almost immediately after they left, the woman in question came out from the ladies' locker room and selected a long wooden practice sword from the rack. It was the woman from Caritas, the one who had put a hole in Krycek's jacket. She was wearing a pair of loose black shorts and a white crop top that left no part of her midriff to the imagination. For that matter, no part of her was open for speculation. All her clothes were doing was covering the skin. He remembered seeing her at the party at Wolfram and Hart. He narrowed his eyes. Things seemed to be locking together. She'd danced with Krycek at a party hosted by evil lawyers. He'd followed her out and neither had been seen after that. Now he learned that she took sword classes. The trainer told her to run through a couple moves individually before combining them into one long move. This went on for a good twenty minutes. After that, she put the weapon away and took down a real blade. Based on the information he had about this woman, Riley, she was the one with the heirloom sword. She was the actress the woman at the shop had mentioned. Mulder saw the trainer step back to stand against the wall as she went to the center of the room. It became quite apparent that if Riley were to ever decide to kill someone, she'd be quite effective at it. As Mulder watched, she went through a complex series of maneuvers. Though it would be dangerous, possibly even fatal, to be in the way, it looked less like moves designed to kill and more like a dance. A crowd gathered to watch. She spun and slashed, the light in the room glinting off the blade as she moved. It was beautiful to watch and also terrifying. If an actress could do this, what was stopping more people from learning it? Mulder snuck over to where the trainer was standing. "Sir, my name is Fox Mulder. I'm a Special Agent with the F.B.I. I was wondering if I could have a few words with the young lady when she's finished." "About what?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Riley. "We're investigating a string of recent murders that look to be done with a sword. I'm not saying that I think she did it. I'm just making sure that it wasn't her, narrowing my list of suspects." "I'll ask her when she's done. She might not have time right away." She finished, dropping to one knee with the sword extended out in front of her. Mulder clapped along with everyone else. She stood, bowed slightly, and put the weapon back where it belonged. The trainer took her aside and asked her something in low tones. She looked over at Mulder, a look of surprise flashing across her face. She walked up to him, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you want?" "That's not very friendly of you?" Riley rolled her eyes. "I'm only speaking to you because you know Lorne. Period. Now make it snappy. I have things to do." "If you're in such a hurry, I can come back later." "Get it over with," she growled. Mulder swallowed nervously. Even as angry as she was, she was still hot. "Is there somewhere we can go to talk?" "This had better be important." "Murder investigations tend to be important, yes." She narrowed her eyes. "Come with me. My dressing room isn't far." He followed her down the hallway and around a few corners before she opened a door and let him in before coming in and locking the door behind her. "So what's this about a murder?" "Several murders, actually." "Anyone I would know?" "Not unless you hang out with the demonic types." She made a face. "Lorne is the only one I'm friendly with." "Then no." Riley sat down in a chair, indicating for him to take a seat as well. "Since when do a bunch of dead demons require a murder investigation? They don't even exist in public records. Hell, most people who live here work with or see demons everyday but don't say anything. They'd prefer to allow their version of reality to be the real one." "It's not so much that the demons are dead. Good riddance, from what I've heard, but it's the savagery with which they were killed that gives us cause for concern. We're just worried that the Hunter might turn on her fellow humans if she bores of her current quarry." "So this demon hunter is a woman, huh? How'd you learn that?" "Lorne told us, but didn't really say more than that." "It's a self preservation thing. Y'see, he knows the hunter. If she found out that he said more than that, his life wouldn't be worth shit." "It's that sort of thing that worries us. Lorne isn't dangerous, so if she'd kill him to keep her secret... See where I'm going here?" She crossed one leg over the other. "You do have a point." "You sound almost as if you know this hunter as well." "Mostly by reputation," she told him. "She doesn't like to socialize. I've seen her around a few times, though." "Do you have a name for her?" "Alexis." "Just Alexis?" "I don't know her last name. For all I know, Alexis might not even be her real name." "I see. Thank you for your time." "Don't come around here again," she warned. "If I need to ask you some more questions, how would I get a hold of you?" "Talk to Lorne. He'll get a hold of me and set something up." "Well, then, I just have one more question. What's your relationship with Wolfram and Hart?" "What does that have to do anything?" "We think they might be involved." "Might be? Listen, Mulder, I know you're new in town and all, but there's one thing you have to understand in order to survive. If there's something rotten going down in L.A, you can safely bet that they have their fingers all over it. They're bad news." "So why were you at their charity ball?" "You were there?" "Yes." "My uncle works for them. He keeps trying to set me up with the younger lawyers, hoping to get me married off to one. Right. Like that'll happen." "So you have no other personal association with them?" "None. Why were you there, out of curiosity?" "I figured that Krycek would show up there." "What's your deal with him?" "He killed my father and Scully's sister. That, and he's just an all around dirt bag killer for hire." "Tell me something. How did he loose his arm?" Mulder told her. "Hmm. That's pretty much what he said." "I wondered if you'd spoken to him or not. I saw you two dancing. When you left and he followed you, something smelled rotten to me." "There's nothing going on there. If I were to get involved with a man, as highly unlikely as it is, I would prefer someone with all his parts intact." "Someone like me?" Riley reached forward and grabbed Mulder just above both of his wrists. "Just checking," she explained. He broke her grip and grabbed her waist, pulling her towards him. He crushed her mouth with his as he kissed her, sliding his hands down the sides of her thighs, and up the back to rest on her ass, gripping it as hard as he could. *** File 09: Musings Riley Hunter's dressing room He broke her grip and grabbed her waist, pulling her towards him. He crushed her mouth with his as he kissed her, sliding his hands down the sides of her thighs, and up the back to rest on her ass, gripping it as hard as he could. She pushed him off, slapping him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, asshole?" "I'll be honest with you," he said hoarsely. "I find you incredibly attractive. As coarse as you are, you fascinate me. I'd really, really like to see you naked." Riley laughed at him. "In your dreams." "Whatever I dream likely wouldn't be much of a stretch," he said, indicating her clothes. "Your current attire leaves little to the imagination. Besides, I've always preferred the real thing to the imagination." "You're quite the sick little puppy," she commented." "So I've been told," he replied, walking up to her. He grabbed her ass again, fondling it. "Don't you people have rules about being on the job?" "So?" Mulder asked as he nibbled on her neck. "I'm performing an interrogation related to the investigation of a murder." "Interrogation? Really now!" He brought his head up, bringing his face right up close to hers. "I don't really believe that you've told me all you know about the Hunter. I have ways of getting information that aren't officially recognized b the F.B.I." He pressed his body up against hers suggestively. "Lorne did mention that I'm not fond of men, didn't he?" "I don't see why we should let that get in the way. You don't have to like me; you just have to tell me what I want to know. If you enjoy yourself while I'm getting it out of you, where's the harm?" Before she could give him any kind of answer, his fingers slid up under the hem of her shorts, caressing the smooth skin beneath it. He pulled the cloth up to get a better feel for her ass. It was tight and well muscled, a sign of a woman that worked out regularly. Riley tried to push him away, but her strength failed her. Panic over took her, giving Mulder the edge he needed to get his hands up to her top, deftly working his hands underneath, pushing it up to let her average sized breast bounce loose. Swiftly, he bent his head to suck one of the perky nipples into his mouth. It caught her completely off guard. Her mind reeled. What was wrong with her? She was stronger than him, so why couldn't she push him away? For that matter, why couldn't she just simply tell him to stop? Guiltily, she knew that it was curiosity. That little part of her mind wanted to know just how far he'd try and go before he either stopped or something interrupted. Besides, she knew full well that she was far too occupied with trying to figure out what happened to her strength to really do much with her body. Taking her lack of movement as encouragement, Mulder managed to get her top off. He took a step back and decided that he should just start carrying a camera around with him. No one would ever believe him if he told them what he was looking at. He stepped back towards Riley and picked her up, carrying her over to the far wall, slamming her up against it, crushing her mouth with his. At this point, the baser part of Riley's mind kicked in. Without giving her intellect any say in the matter, her legs wrapped around Mulder's waist as she kissed him back just as hungrily. It was when he moved to kiss her throat that she finally snapped out of it. Even in her dazed state, she refused to allow him to touch her throat. Lucky for Mulder, the piercing ring of a phone interrupted before she could break his hold on her. Mulder cursed under his breath as he let her down so that she could answer the phone. While she did so, he looked around the room. There were several costumes hanging on a long rack, ranging in style from mini skirts and low cut, revealing tops to the leather she wore in the movie she was currently making, and up to elaborate and fancy multilayered gowns. A long, black leather trench coat hung from a hook on the back of the door. Her street clothes were folded neatly on a shelf beside the dressing table. He picked her top off the floor and handed it to her. She smiled appreciatively and continued talking. Her face grew more an more concerned as the conversation went on. She hung up and looked at him. "Much as I'd like to see this interrogation method of yours Agent Mulder, you're going to have to trust that I've told you all I know. I have to go now. My friend needs to talk to me about something important that she couldn't mention on the phone." "We could always continue our...conversation later," Mulder suggested. "And please. Call me Fox." "If you insist." She went over and unlocked the door. "I should get dressed. I can't exactly leave as I am." "You don't need to be shy around me." "It's not shyness, it's fairness," she explained. "If you get to see me with no clothes on, then it's only fair if you reciprocate. I'm in a hurry, so don't offer. As it is, you got to see me topless. You owe me." "All the more reason to continue this later," he said, sounding very pleased about that idea. "I'm staying at the Crown Palace Hotel. Or would you rather do this at your place? If it would make you more comfortable, that is." Riley sighed impatiently. "Could you just get going, please? This is really urgent." He nodded. "I get the point. I'll see you later then," he said as he left, being careful not to open the door anymore than was absolutely necessary. She sighed and grabbed her bra, wishing as she put it on that she had time to hit the showers. She was all sweaty from practice and her skin crawled a little where Mulder -Fox- had touched her. It was worrying that her strength had just evaporated. His touch hadn't been nearly as insistent as Krycek's had been and yet she couldn't get rid of him. What was going on? She made a metal note to get a hold of someone who would know and finished getting dressed. Her shorts were replaced by tight fitting blue jeans and a wheat-colored t-shirt replaced the white top. She put her shoes on and headed off to meet her friend. *** Production Stage 12 Krycek sat in his car, grinning like a maniac as he watched Mulder's rental pull out and head off. He started the engine and took off in the opposite direction. His unnamed source had been right. Mulder thought the Hunter was a woman. Interesting. As misguided as it was, the information might prove valuable to those at Wolfram and Hart, possibly enough to warrant a reward. Idling at a stop light, he fingered the prosthetic with his good hand. Before going to Riley's apartment, he'd viewed the possibility of a replacement with interest, but in light of recent events, it had become an obsession. He was going to show Riley that he was just a good as anyone else. As soon as he got a new arm, he was going to go to her place and finish what he started whether she was interested or not. It would be more fun if she was, though. His smile widened as he accelerated through the intersection. If she wasn't willing, well, there were drugs that would help with that. *** Luigi's Restaurant Scully looked up as Mulder walked and sat down in the chair opposite from her, apologizing for his lateness. He looked like he'd been through the ringer. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily. His clothes were in disarray and his hair was a mess. "Are you feeling ok, Mulder?" "You look like hell," she observed. "What happened to you?" "Got chased by a large, vicious cat," he explained. "I had to make a run for it." "Did you learn anything?" *Did I ever...* he said to himself. Out loud, he said, "Yes, but not what I wanted to." "Spill it, Mulder." He recounted the day's events. The first two women on the list were so horrified at the thought of being under investigation from the F.B.I that they'd cooperated fully. They didn't know anything useful. Riley, on the other hand... "Is this the same Riley from Caritas and from the charity ball?" Scully asked, intrigued. "Yes, and she's just as hot today as she was both of those times." Something in Mulder's expression bothered Scully, but she didn't say anything. "It seems that she and Lorne are both familiar with this Hunter. I got a name that may or may not be the Hunter's real first name: Alexis." "That's more than we knew before, at any rate," Scully admitted. "It's still not much to go on." "I got the feeling that she knew more than she was saying though, so I invited her to come to the hotel if she felt like talking some more. If she doesn't, I know where she works and could easily find her home." "Why didn't you press her for more?" *Oh, but I did...Press and squeeze, as well. Biting likely would have followed if it hadn't been for that damned phone!* "We were interrupted. Her phone rang. One of her friends needed to talk to her quite badly. About what, she didn't say, but she looked upset about it." *Way to go, Fox. Lying to your partner. She'll take that easier than the truth, though.* "I see. Well, you still have that other lead to look into. Maybe that one's actually the Hunter." "Her name isn't Alexis, it's Tanya, but we can't really be sure that the Hunter would tell Riley her real name, so it's possible. How did your work go?" "Well, I told you about the lack of registry. I went to the Hyperion to ask about the bodies. Turns out that the different species decompose differently. This makes a time of death nearly impossible to determine, especially with the rapidly decomposing ones." "Huh. That's useful to know, in any case." A waiter walked up and took their orders. "I don't know about you, Scully, but I'm starving!" *It took almost all of my energy to hold Riley up against that wall. She's not heavy, but it was awkward. I've never done it before, but I liked it.* "I'm not so hungry right now, but I will be when my meal gets here," she replied, smiling. *** Wolfram and Hart Krycek walked into Lilah's office. She looked up and smiled broadly, flipping a hidden switch under her desk to keep her activities temporarily hidden from the security cameras. Krycek was no threat to her. He wanted that new arm pretty badly, so she doubted that he'd do anything to jeopardize his chances there. She got up and met him halfway to her desk. "Back for more?" she whispered huskily in his ear. "I have information, but it'll cost you." She traced a finger down the side of his neck. "What's your price?" "For this, the previous information I gave you, and your unwelcome intrusion into my room this morning, I want a new arm." "My, my. Aren't we demanding? Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that." "Actually, no, I didn't. You were just convenient. Oh, and don't pretend that you didn't want it either. You're the one who came into my room and threw herself at me." Lilah tossed her head sending her long brown hair flying. "I never said that. You did exactly what I wanted you to, though I will admit it didn't go as I'd planned. I'm not going to complain about the results." Krycek looked down at her impatiently. "Do we have a deal or do I take what I know elsewhere? There are a lot of people looking for the Hunter, you know." She sighed and stepped back. "Let me go clear it with my superiors." Lilah left him alone in the office while she went to go talk with Linwood, biting back a string of curses as she did so. *He really must be stuck on her,* she mused, waiting for Linwood to let her into his office. *I wonder what this information of his is?* Linwood went back to Lilah's office with her. Krycek looked up at them, a bored expression on his face. "Well?" "We agree to your terms. Information first, then your arm." Krycek shook his head. "No. Arm first or no deal. I don't trust you people." "Why should we trust you?" "What choice do you have? I know what you don't. You need me. On the other hand, I don't really need that arm to keep living. Your call." The two lawyers exchanged a look. "Fine. You'll get your arm and then you tell us everything that you know." "Deal." *** Java Dive Riley pulled a chair out from the table and set down, slinging her jacket over the back of the one beside her. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "The traffic is abysmal at this time of day." Fred shook her head, smiling. "Don't worry about it. I was almost late, too. I ordered you your usual. They're still making it." "Thanks, Fred." "No problem." "So what's the crisis?" Fred leaned forward. "It's those F.B.I agents. One of them, Scully, was at the hotel today asking about demon decomposition." "One showed up at work today," Riley said, shuddering. "Really? Mulder, right?" "Yeah, that's him." Riley sat quietly for a minute. "What is it about me? Why do all men feel the intense need to put their hands all over me?" Fred gave her an odd look. "He didn't...did he?" "Admittedly, I don't get a lot of men telling me that they want to see me naked. Most just want a fuck and that's all." She snorted. "As if they'll get it." "What happened?" "I don't know." Her earlier feeling of panic came back. "I froze. My strength vanished. If he hadn't gone for my throat, he would have gotten away with it, too. He's still breathing only because of your well-timed phone call." "That's a relief." "Get this, though. He had the nerve to suggest that I come to his hotel room later so that we can finish our 'conversation'." Fred giggled. "If only he knew." "He's not going to. No one is. Ever!" The savagery in Riley's voice sobered Fred up instantly. "This is really getting uncomfortable. I can tell that the others want me to say something, but I can't. I promised, but...well, you know. I've had to tell repeatedly that you're not another Slayer. I don't know what to do. The guys are doing everything they can to find the Hunter, even going through old prophecies and myths." "They want her that badly, huh?" The waiter came with their drinks. They paid him and continued. "They're looking in the wrong places." "Wesley thinks that one of the prophecies he's trying to translate has something to do with her, something about a Hunter's Moon. He doesn't have a lot of it translated yet." Riley mulled it over as she took a sip of the creamy orange drink. "Let me know if he finds something useful in it. Any idea where it came from?" "It's some old, musty demon prophecy. I can't remember which demon, though." "Just as long it's not vampires or apocalypse demons." "I don't think so." "Good. It looks like I have some work to do. Thanks for the tip off, Fred. I appreciate it. I know how hard it is to keep the silence, but we're sworn, remember? We don't have a choice." Fred shrugged, resigned to it. Her eyes brightened suddenly and she leaned in again. "So what was that party like?" "Boring, like they always are. You remember that Krycek fellow? He was there, chatting with Lindsey." Fred frowned. "What could those two possibly have in common?" "They're both soulless, evil scum bags with missing limbs." "He's missing one?" "His left arm, to be exact." Riley then told her what had happened at the party and afterwards, everything up to when she locked her door that night, shutting Krycek out. Fred flinched. "Are you feeling ok, Riles? Before all of this started going down, you never would have let him into your apartment, never mind let him touch you." Riley rested her elbows on the table, cupping her face with her hands. "I don't know, Fred. Things have been weird for a few days now." "How so?" She shook her head. "I don't know how to describe it. Lorne wasn't able to help out much at all, either. I'm not sure if I should be reassured or terrified by that." "I'd be afraid," Fred told her bluntly. "He's never really failed to help before." Riley sighed and shook her head. "There is someone who would know; I just haven't been able to get a hold of her yet." "Well, I hope it turns out to be nothing. You can't really afford to be any less than at your best." "There's no need to remind me," Riley said, finishing off her drink. "Sorry to cut this short, but I really should try and contact her again. Let me know if you need to talk to me again. If your friend digs up more on this prophecy, let me know, too." Fred nodded. "Anything I can do to help." *** File 10: Captive Wayside Motel Krycek woke with a start, sitting straight up. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He couldn't remember getting back to his room. Frowning, he looked down at himself. He wasn't wearing any clothes. That wasn't unusual, as he slept like that frequently. What was odd was the ring around his left arm. Left arm. He lifted the arm up to his face to get a better look at it. He smiled as he flexed the fingers, reveling in the sensation of being completely whole again. He ran the fingers of his right hand over the skin of his left arm. Krycek began to laugh. He never thought he would have his arm back, but here it was. He got up and headed for the shower after taking a quick look at the clock. He'd been asleep for most of the day. There were things he had to do, things that couldn't wait any longer. He'd made a promise to Wolfram and Hart to track down this Hunter. *Little do they know that I was sent here to do just that. I don't intend to hand him over to them, though. I have other plans for this asshole.* Showered now, he got dressed. It was odd, suddenly being able to use two hands to dress. He'd gotten used to only having the one. For the time being, he decided to keep his new hand a secret. It was always a good thing to have an ace up your sleeve. Literally. Krycek left his room and got into his car, heading to the site where he'd first me the Hunter. *** Alleyway He parked his car a short ways down the road, got out, and walked to the alley. Krycek looked around. As it was November, there was very little light to see by. He pulled a flashlight out of his jacket pocket and used it to look around. There was a dark smear on one wall with a large black stain on the ground. The body had been removed, thought that didn't come as much of a surprise. He allowed himself a small smile as he wondered, briefly, what Scully was making of those things. Near the entrance to the alley, he found a dark red stain near the wall. It looked like dried blood. Though he didn't recall the Hunter bring hurt, it was possible that the blood was his. He wished there was enough there to take for analysis, but there wasn't. The only thing to do was to find the hunter and get a sample of his blood. Where to start looking? As he ran the beam from the flashlight over the upper part of the back wall of the alley, a movement caught his eye. Without thinking, he raced out and into the building to the left. Finding a stairwell just inside, he ran up the stairs. When he burst out, there was a figure in a long black trench coat standing there. The figure was facing him, but the upper half was cloaked in shadows. "Word on the streets is that you've been looking for me." "That's right. I have orders to take you into custody." The figure gave a short, cold laugh. "Custody? Where would you take me? What would you do with me? You don't stand a chance of even catching me, let alone keeping me for any length of time." "Look, I have my orders. You can either come quietly, or we can do this the hard way." "I'll pass, thanks." Krycek pulled out his gun and aimed. "The hard way it is, then." "Point that thing somewhere else." "I don't think so. I remember how you took out that creature. I'm not putting this away until I have you in custody." "That'll never happen." "So I guess we stand here until one of us drops." "I don't know about you, but I have better things to do with my time than stand here." "I've told you what the solution is." "You didn't answer my questions." "Do you really want to know?" "I wouldn't have asked otherwise." Krycek lowered the end of his gun slightly. "You're a strange one, aren't you?" "It comes with the territory." "I don't know the answer to your second question and I can't answer your first one without putting the people I work for at risk." "But you do know the answer." "It would be strange if I were sent after you with no idea as to where to take you, now wouldn't is?" "Fair enough, I suppose. You were sent after me. I doubt very much that you have any real idea as to who I am, what I'm capable of, or even the kinds of things you're messing with by keeping me here." "No, and I don't really care. It's my job, you see." "Hmm. At first I only thought you were arrogant. Now I see that I was wrong. I should be adding pig headed and stupid to the list. You see, I can't leave here. This is my home and my job." "Regardless of how this turns out, one of us fails to do our job. There's no way around that." The figure took a step forward. "Are you aware that there's a vampire behind you?" Krycek rolled his eyes. "Do you really expect me to fall for that old trick?" "Don't say I didn't warn you," he said as arms grabbed Krycek from behind and sharp fangs sunk into his neck, causing him to yelp in pain and surprise. He broke free of the vampire's hold and backed away, holding his neck. Blood oozed out beneath his hand. The vampire, a young man, licked his teeth. "It's not you I'm after anyways," he said casually, turning his gaze on the shadowy figure. "I'm here for you, Hunter." "And you'll have about as much luck as every other demon in L.A," came the bored reply. He lunged forward, both hands balled into fists. The Hunter sidestepped and plunged a wooden stake through his back, piercing his heart. The vampire was dust before he hit the ground. "That was amazing," Krycek said admiringly. "Not really. That was a young one and stupid at that." "I was given to understand that only the Slayers were that good." "The Slayers are different from us. They're chosen out of a lot of young girls. My skills are hereditary. Not that any of this is your business." He once again aimed his gun at the hunter. "Anything dealing with you is my business." "Just stop and listen to yourself. If you think for one moment this egotistical banter of yours is going to convince me to come along with you, you're out of your mind." "I'm not really giving you a choice, here." The hunter drew his weapon, the long blade flashing in the dim light. "I've never sued this on another person before, but you're leaving me with little choice." "Chances are I can shoot you before you can move." "I've been hit by worse things than bullets. One won't stop me for long." "If I hit you in the right spot, it will." He rolled his eyes. "Oh please. I've been clawed, darted, poisoned, shot at, as well as many other things that would take to long to go into right now. Being shot again doesn't really frighten me." "I didn't think it would. You don't strike me as the kind of person that scares easily. Not in your line of work." The blade lowered slightly. "Are we going to do this or are you to make me stand here all night and bore me?" He shook his head. "Never mind. I'm leaving now." "You're going nowhere, Hunter," a deep voice growled from the side. They both turned to see what seemed to be a human man with rows of spikes on his head and face, a big nose and eyebrow ridges. He was wearing a pair of tight pants and was bare-chested. "I've come for you." "Right. And you are?" "Neriff. Remember that name. It will be the last one you ever know." "You're a Kailiff demon, and not a bright one at that," the hunter observed. "Insolent female!" Neriff roared. "Your skin will decorate my wall." "And your head spike will make great knives." Krycek looked back and forth between the two. *Female?* "Look, pal, I think you have the wrong person." "You are the Hunter, are you not?" Neriff asked. "That I am." He turned to Krycek. "I'm not seeing the confusion here." "The Hunter is a man." There was a pause before the hunter laughed. "Oh, that's one I haven't heard before. Really, now Krycek, I thought you knew." "Enough talk. You die now." Pulling a pair of long knives out of sheaths concealed behind his back, Neriff launched himself at the Hunter with a loud battle cry. The long blade came up and blocked the attacks. The hunter brought her foot up and planted it in Neriff's stomach. Krycek watched the fight, his mind reeling with the new information. The Hunter was a woman? How was that possible? Everything he'd found pointed the other way. Had that been done deliberately? He gritted his teeth. When this was all over, he decided he'd pull her aside and get the truth out of her however he could. That was assuming, of course, that she survived this. The demon had her backed into a corner. There was blood all over her, some of it was the demons, but most of it was dark red. Her blood. Neriff held one of his knives up to her as he sneered. "Mighty Hunter indeed. We have feared you for so long. I see now that our fears were misplaced. Your reign of terror is at an end, bitch!" Krycek aimed his gun at the demon's head and fired. Slime spattered over the hunter as Neriff's lifeless body collapsed to the ground. "I think not." She looked from the body to Krycek. "What the hell did you do that for?" "I saved your life." She snorted. "I wasn't in any danger. It's a common technique I use." "From where I'm standing, it didn't look that way. I was only trying to help." "And failing miserably while you were at it," she told him. "Because you killed him, I couldn't get anything out of him. Now I have to try again. Thanks for nothing, Krycek." That got him. "How do you know who I am?" "Lucky guess," she said, turning and walking away. "Oh, no you don't. You aren't getting away that easily." He raced after her, grabbing her arm. She spun and faced him. "Let go of me," she hissed. "Not until I learn the truth about you." Going out on a limb, he pulled her in close and kissed her. It was faint, but there was a scent of vanilla beneath the gore, the soft lips feeling oddly familiar. In his arms, the woman stiffened, resisting. The longer he held on to her, the more she relaxed into him, almost seeming to return the kiss. Before he could really enjoy it, she broke away, slapping him across the face so hard it made his vision blur. When it cleared again, he looked up at her. He'd managed to pull her a little more into the light, making her face a little more visible. He still couldn't make out most of her features, but he could see that her hair was a light color and shoulder length at the shortest. She had a fairly generic face shape. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed angrily. "I thought that was blatantly obvious," he said, rubbing his cheek. "I like strong women. Besides, that was the easiest way to get at you." "What are you rambling about now?" She sounded annoyed. "As it turns out, it's a good thing you're a woman. This would have been harder if you were, in fact, a man as I'd been led to believe." She dropped to one knee, clutching her head. "I feel dizzy." "That would be the drug I made you swallow," Krycek told her, finding it very hard to keep the smugness from his voice. "The original plan had been to catch you first and then knock you out with it, but as it turns out, this was the better plan." "You rat bastard," she said weakly, collapsing to the ground, unconscious. Her sword clattered as it fell from her limp hand. Krycek put his gun away and bent to pick up the long blade, turning it over in his hands. It was quite heavy, but perfectly balanced. The blade itself was black with a black and silver pommel. He'd have to have a look at it in better light, but he was certain that there was some decoration on it as well. He pushed her long leather trench coat back to find the sword's sheath. After putting the sword in it, he picked the hunter up and carried her over to a ledge to sit her down. Carefully, he hoisted her up onto his back piggy back style to make himself look less suspicious. It was late and there were a few bars around, so if anyone asked, he could just say that she had a lot to drink and he was taking her home. Lying was, after all, something that Krycek was very good at. Fortunately, he made it to his car without interruption. He'd gotten a few odd looks, but nothing more. He put her into the back seat, buckled her in, and headed back to his motel room. His curiosity regarding her identity was eating him alive, but he told himself to be patient. He needed her to be awake in order to tell him as the chances of him recognizing her were so slim as to be laughable. It would also be helpful is she was tied to something so that she couldn't attack him while being questioned. *** Wayside Motel Back at the motel, Krycek got out of the car and unlocked the door to his room. He wanted to make sure that everything was ready to tie her up before he brought her in. He looped a pair of handcuffs through the bars at the top part of the bed and set aside a length of rope to tie her ankles with. Figuring that it would be enough for the time being, he went back out and brought her in, gently setting her down on the mattress. Feeling around her waist for the buckle to the belt holding her sword, he unfastened it and set the sword against the wall. He peeled her long black leather trench coat off, revealing a sleeveless black lace up shirt. In the dim light, he put her in the cuffs as securely as he could. The Syndicate would just have to cope with her having bruised wrists. He wasn't taking any chances. Confident that she wouldn't wake up if he turned the main lights on, he got up and flipped the switch so that he had enough light to tie the rope around her ankles. He grabbed the rope and sat down at her feet. She was wearing a pair of lace up black boots with a fair sized thick heel. He removed them to make it easier to tie her up. He tied the rope over her long, loose pants to avoid causing her any more discomfort. Her hands he could afford to hurt, but there was no sense in making her loose circulation in her feet. When he finished tying the last knot, he gave in to his curiosity and moved back up to her head to look at her. Her shoulder length blond hair had fallen over most of her face when he brought her in. He brushed it aside, noting the silky feel to it and her skin. The sight of her profile made his heart skip a beat. To be sure, he turned her head to get a full on look at her. "Riley," he whispered hoarsely, stroking her cheek. "Why did it have to be you?" He got up and poured himself a drink, slamming it back before taking a chair and sitting down a little ways away from her. He watched her for a long time, pondering his options. *Well, Alex, this certainly puts you in a bit of a pickle, doesn't it? On the one hand, I want to beat the shit out of the Hunter for humiliating me when we first met. On the other hand, this is Riley, not a man like I'd thought. Admittedly, I do want to get even with her for shunning me just because I was missing an arm. I have her within reach. She isn't going anywhere, and yet I don't know where to go from here. It seems that all of my goals for the immediate future are one and the same. Riley. Well, this certainly explains why you're as strong as you are.* *I wonder if you know that what I told you before was mostly a lie. I do care about the physical. How could anyone not care about that when looking at someone with a body like yours? I'm amazed that you believed it. For a while there, I almost believed it myself. That is, until I found Lilah here. I didn't realize how lonely I've been until after I woke up afterwards, alone once again. Am I doomed to a life of one night stands?* *I wasn't lying about wanting to get to know you, though. You fascinate me. From the fist time I saw you, I've wondered who you are. By accident, I've learned more about you than I think you would have ever old me, or anyone else for that matter.* He sat up, a thought occurring to him. *Wait a minute. That girl from Angel Investigations, the one that called you Riles. She seemed to know something about you, but wasn't telling. Does she know your secret, I wonder?* Over on the bed, Riley was starting to move like she was waking up. Krycek watched, fascinated, as her eyes opened and blinked to clear her vision. She tried to move her hands, but the handcuffs prevented her. Experimentally, she wiggled her feet. Cursing under her breath, she managed to wriggle herself into a slanted, upright position with her legs tucked under her. She looked around at her surroundings, her eyes eventually landing on Krycek. "You," was all she said, but the way her body tensed up and her eyes narrowed mixed with the coldness in her voice told him how she felt. She pulled against the handcuffs. *** File 11: Nightmare Wayside Motel "You," was all she said, but the way her body tensed up and her eyes narrowed mixed with the coldness in her voice told him how she felt. She pulled against the handcuffs. "I don't recommend doing that," Krycek told her. "They're very durable, so no matter how strong you think you are, you aren't going to get out of those until I unlock them." "So stop boring me and get to it." "I can't do that." "What's wrong, Krycek? Is your arm broken?" she taunted. "I assure you, there's nothing physically wrong with me." "So? What's holding you up here?" "There are a lot of people who would pay good money to get their hands on you. As much as I would love to let you go, I can't. It's really your own fault, you know." Riley rolled her eyes. "How is any of this my fault? If you had just left me alone to do my job, we wouldn't be having this problem." "Well, you see, it's your job that brought me out here. There's a group of people that I work for that is interested in your skills, so they sent me to learn about you, bring you back to them if it was possible. They didn't tell me anything else, so don't ask. When I saw you in that alley my first night here, I mistook you for a man. You humiliated me and vanished. I made it my mission to hunt you down and pay you back in kind. I wasn't sure how, but I figured something would pop into my head when I caught up with you. "Then, at your apartment, you were starting to get friendly when you found out about my arm. You immediately closed yourself off to me and all because you'd had a bad experience before. Now, is it just me, or was that grossly unfair of you? I planned on telling you, but I wanted you to get to know me for who I am and not for the limb you couldn't feel. "So because of that, I wanted to find someway of making you pay. It hurt, you know. To be that close to a woman like you-attractive, intelligent, starting to warm up-and then have her suddenly close off because of something out of your control. I haven't met anyone yet who has been able to look past it." He paused. "Well, that Lilah woman seems to have been able to, but I don't much care for her." "Lilah Morgan? The lawyer at Wolfram and Hart?" "That's the one, yes." She wrinkled her nose. "I might not like Lindsey, but I do agree with him on one thing, and that's a mutual hatred of Lilah." "Speaking of Wolfram and Hart, they want to get their hands on you, too. Any idea why?" "I kill demons. Such people are handy to have around when you deal with them on a daily basis. Should a client go rogue, simply send your hunter out to take care of the problem." She shrugged. "My uncle's been trying to get me to come to work for the firm for years. He tried the same with my mother. Frankly, I like my soul where it is." "That was an odd statement." "Not when you factor in one of the terms of a contract with them. They've all literally sold their souls to the firm. One had his back for a little while, but they bought it back from him for a six figure salary and a big office with a view." "I see. Well, the way I see things, I have three options. I can turn you over to my employers, for one. I don't know what they'll do with you. I can give you to Wolfram and Hart, a group whose intentions are now clear to me, or I can keep you here." "And what would you do with me?" she asked, tossing her head to the side to get her hair out of her face. "You do realize that I'm a good deal stronger than you, right? It does kind of come with the territory. That does kind of limit you." His face took on a pained expression. "If you're suggesting that I would try and rape you, you're way off. That's not my style." "So what is?" she challenged. "Drugs? Coercion?" "I prefer my partners to be aware and willing, thank you. Why do you insist on taunting and insulting me? It's really annoying." Riley sighed and shook her head. "Well, it's apparently not working. If I get you mad enough, you might come over and try and make me stop. If you're mad enough, your guard will drop and I can make you release me." "I don't see how that would be possible." "Why don't you come over here and see for yourself?" "Thank you, but no. As much as I would love to be closer to you, that's not really what I had in mind." "Are you going to answer my question or avoid it?" Krycek took a deep breath. "Really, I don't know what I'm going to do with you if I decide to keep you. There's a part of me that wants to hurt you for everything you've done to me, but it's at war with the part that wants to untie you, take the cuffs off, hold you close and beg for your forgiveness for not releasing you sooner." She rattled the cuffs again. "Do you think I could forgive you for doing this?" "It's not likely is it?" "Try laughable." "Laughable is still a slim chance." "What alternate reality are you living in?" "It's nice to dream. Which of the three options would you prefer?" "You're letting me choose?" "It's your life, after all." "What if I refuse to choose any of them?" "Then I'll choose for you." "Which would you pick?" "That's none of your business," he snapped. "I'll give you some time to decide, but I suggest that you don't take too long or I might just pick for you anyways." Krycek got up out of the chair and left the room, leaving Riley alone. The instant he was gone, she strained at her bonds, trying to find a weak point in the ropes and cuffs. She pulled at them until her feet were sore and her wrists bled. *Keep calm, Riley,* she told herself, taking a deep breath. *This isn't the first time you've been tied up like this. Remember that vampire cult in high school and the demon students in college? You've been in worse messes than this and have gotten out of them. This isn't any different. Well, it is in that there are two groups of people after your hide, and your uncle belongs to one of those groups, but beyond that, it's business as usual.* She took the time to get a better look at the room she was in. *Well, I'll say this for the guy. He certainly knows how to find the drabbest looking place I've ever seen before. Don't these people he works for pay him? Or is he just trying to keep a low profile? I don't really think you can go much lower than this.* Riley yawned. *That drug he gave me must still be in my system,* she thought as she looked over at the clock on the bedside table. *Or not. It's almost midnight. I'm usually ending my patrol about now. I'm so tired...* Not long after she finished that thought, Riley passed out. She was still asleep when Krycek came back an hour later. He looked down at her sleeping form and brushed her cheek lightly with his finger. She stirred and made a soft sound, but didn't wake up. Heading into the kitchen area, he set down the bag he was carrying and resumed his spot in the chair. It was interesting, the difference between the drug- induced sleep she'd been in before and this more natural sleep. Her face looked gentler, almost angelic. Only her posture was unnatural, but that couldn't really be helped. There was a faint metallic smell in the air, almost like copper. He got up and looked at Riley. Her wrists were rubbed raw and blood ran down her arms. The pillow beneath her was soaked with blood and sweat. He cursed and went to get a first aid kit, taking out some disinfectant and a clean face cloth from the bathroom. Taking great care not to disturb her, he sat down on the mattress and opened the bottle of disinfectant, pouring some onto the cloth. He patted the raw skin of her wrists with the dampened cloth, hoping that she was sleeping deeply enough that the sting wouldn't wake her. Everything went well for a few minutes, but when he touched one of the sorest spots on her left wrist, she woke up with a cry of pain. Her eyes opened with a wild, pained expression in them. "You've bashed your wrists up pretty badly," he said gently as he continued. "I told you that these cuffs were durable. You shouldn't have tried to free yourself." "So I was just supposed to lie here?" "You wouldn't have gotten hurt that way." She yelped in pain as he dabbed at another particularly sore spot. "Oh, don't be such a baby," he scolded. He leaned forward and blew gently on the sore spot. Riley watched him with an odd look on her face. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of this. When he looked up at her, she blushed and turned away. "You don't have to do this." "Do what? Help your wrists heal or keep you like this until I decide what to do with you?" "Both." "That may be true with the first one, but I don't want you to be in pain, so I do kind of have to. With the second, yes, I do. I'm sorry, Riley, but it's my job." Her grey eyes met his green ones. "There's something you should be aware of, then, if you insist on keeping me here. By doing your job, you prevent me from doing mine. A lot of people will die because I'm lying here unable to prevent it. Those demons I hunt are dangerous. By killing them, I prevent a lot of needless deaths at their hands and make my town a little safer. If you're comfortable with all that innocent blood on your hands, that's fine with me, but I haven't met anyone who can sleep well with the knowledge that they're allowing baby eaters and mass murderers to live." Krycek paused and watched her face carefully. "I wish there was something I could do, but my hands are tied tighter than yours in this, Riley. I'm sorry. I don't have a choice." "You always have a choice, Krycek," she told him. "It's just a matter of choosing the right one." "I suggest you get some more sleep. It's a long day tomorrow." "I'm not going to be able to sleep tied up like this with you around." "Try. I'll be over on the couch if you need anything. I'm not a very deep sleeper, so just ask." He got up and left her sight. She heard the faint rustle of leather as Krycek took his jacket off and slung it over the end of the couch followed by the lighter rustle of him taking his shirt of and letting it fall to the ground. The couch creaked under his weight until he got into a comfortable position. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to loose herself in her mind in order to get some sleep. It took her a long time, but she did manage it. In the very early morning, Krycek woke up to a loud noise. He sat up, reaching for the gun on the floor beside the couch. The sound was coming from the bed. Carefully, he crept over to have a look at Riley. The sound, a harsh sobbing, was coming from her. She was thrashing about as much as her bonds allowed. He turned on the bedside lamp. In the light, he could see the tears running down her cheeks. He went into the kitchen and got a glass of water and came back, setting it down on the table before sitting down on the bed beside her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. "Riley. Riley wake up. You're having a nightmare." He shook her again, harder this time. Her eyes flew open and she lurched forward only to be stopped by the handcuffs. He set the gun down beside the glass and moved in a little closer, putting his arms around her, stroking her hair. Her entire body shook with the sobs. She burrowed her head against his chest, her sobs gradually weakening. When they stopped, he pulled back and picked up the glass of water. "Thirsty?" he asked, offering the cup to her. She looked at him. "Not if it's drugged." He took a sip of it and held it back to her. "It's just tap water, I promise." "You planning on letting me go so that I can drink it?" Krycek shook his head. "It's too risky," he said as he moved closer to her. He held the glass up to her lips, tilting it so that she could sip. It was a slow process, but she drank the whole glass. "Are you ok?" "I'm fine." "You certainly didn't sound fine a few minutes ago. You were crying in your sleep. Was it a nightmare?" "What do you care?" "It woke me up," he pointed out. "Besides, I don't like seeing you in any kind of pain." "If that were really true, you'd let me go." Her voice was weak and completely devoid of the fire it had held earlier. He reached out as if to touch her cheek, but stopped himself. "I wish I could, but you know I can't." Her eyes wandered over to the gun on the bedside table. She jumped backwards to try and get away from it. "Get that thing out of my sight!" He looked down at it. "You don't like guns, do you?" "I despise them." He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. "If you don't mind my asking, why is that?" he asked. "That's none of your business," she said, flinching as the barrel pointed at her. He shrugged. "If you don't want to tell me, it's fine by me." She focused her attention on his hands. "You have a new arm, I see. What did that cost you?" "Just some information that has recently proved to be false. My soul is still where it always has been." He tapped his chest just over his heart. "I'm not really sure if that's comforting or not." "If it makes it easier for you to think I've sold my soul for a new arm, then go ahead. You seem determined to think the worst of people." She gave a short laugh. "In my experience, it's easier and less painful to do that then to always think the best of people. I used to be like that, you know. It was many years ago, but I was." "What happened? If you don't mind me asking, that is." "My private life is none of your business." "It's fine by me if you don't want to tell me, but do you really think you can go back to sleep after that nightmare?" Her face went pale. "I thought not. Can you think of anything better to do?" She thought about it for a little while. "Could I get another glass of water?" "Sure. Hungry?" Riley licked her lips. "Famished." "I'll be back in a couple minutes. I bought some food earlier. I hope you aren't terribly picky." Krycek got up and headed into the kitchen, taking some apples out of the plastic grocery bag and cutting them up into small slices. He put them on a plate with some crackers, cookies slices of cold meat, buns, and other small pieces of fruit. He filled the glass of water and went back to Riley. She eyed the glass of water, licking her lips. He held the glass up to her and she leaned forward to drink. She took a couple long drinks from it and indicated that she was done with that for now. "I wasn't really sure what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything. What would you like first?" She eyed the plate. "Do you intend to feed me like a child?" "I'm not letting you out of those cuffs." "Congratulations, Krycek. You would be hard pressed to find something more humiliating than that." "It wasn't my intention to humiliate you. I just can't let you starve." He held a slice of apple up to her. "You need to eat something, Riley." "Lucky for you, my stomach agrees with you," she grumbled. "Apple will be fine." He brought the piece up to her mouth. She bit off a piece, chewed a couple times and swallowed. He popped the rest of it into her mouth and picked up another. When the apples were finished, she decided she wanted some of the sliced ham and some more water. It didn't take her long to finish everything on the plate. She lay back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Feel better?" he asked her, studying her face. "A little. You keep insisting that you can't help me with the rest, so I guess I'm as good as I can be." "I'm glad." They sat there in an awkward silence, Krycek looking into her eyes, Riley, watching his facial expression. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. "What? What's so funny?" She shook her head. "The sheer ridiculousness of this situation is just too much. I'm tied up being hand fed bite sized pieces of fruit. If my mom were still around, she'd be teasing me about how this looks. 'Oh, how romantic,' she'd say. Or maybe even 'that looks really kinky'. Probably both. Mom always was a little...odd." "She sounds like my kind of person. What happened to her?" "You just don't give up, do you?" "It's not a part of my personality, no." She sighed. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." "That sounds fair enough. I'll start, even though there isn't much to tell. My parents immigrated to the States during the Cold War. I went through the academy and was partnered up with an F.B.I agent by the name of Fox Mulder." When he said that name, Riley twitched, but didn't say anything, so he continued. "I don't clearly remember when I started working for the Syndicate. Some days it seems like I always have. I've done a lot of things over the last few years that I'm not particularly proud of, but they had to be done." He looked down at his hands. "So what about you? You seem like you have a lot to tell." "You'd better sit back. It's a long story." *** File 12: The Hunter Riley took a deep breath before starting. "As I mentioned on the roof, my skills are hereditary, passed down through an unbroken maternal line that is thousands of years old. There's an old legend that, in the country we first came from, there was a large population of demons that preyed on the villages. The Slayer at the time had been called in a far country and couldn't have come to their aid before they were all wiped out. To solve this problem, my Ancestor took up a sword and made it her life's work to eradicate the demons. Such was her courage that her daughter was blessed with strength and speed to rival that of a Slayer, but with the gift came a curse. Each Hunter was thereafter only able to bear one child, a girl who would carry on the gift. Somewhere along the line, a dislike of men crept into the family. Men just don't understand what it means to be the way we are and can't deal with it. More recently, about five hundred years ago, my ancestors just stopped marrying the fathers of their daughters. It was considered too much of a hassle." "So you have no idea who your father is?" "I have an idea, but he died when I was five, so it hardly matters, now does it? It's bad enough that I have Uncle Linwood trying to get me to work for him. I really wish he'd stop. It goes against everything I believe in to work there. Anyways, that's the story of my abilities. The sword I carry is the same one the First Hunter used. How it's survived this long, I have no idea. No one's been able to explain it. Mom told me once that it didn't used to be black. It was stained with the blood of a demon in the time of Joy, a Hunter from fifteen hundred odd years ago. That in itself is another long story. "Now, as for me, I haven't always lived her in L.A. Mom took me all over the place. I was born here, though. When she died, I came back here to live with my Grandmother." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "Earlier, you asked me about my dislike of guns and what happened to my mom. We were in San Francisco while she was hunting down a nest of vampires. One of them figured that no matter how fast and strong we Hunters are, we aren't bullet proof, so he called mom out to face him one on one. I watched from a balcony. Before she could even draw her sword, he shot her in the leg, then her right arm, her stomach, and then in the head at close range. I didn't much care for guns before that, but from that day forward I loathed them more than anything. In later years, I discovered that my dislike of men pales in comparison to the hatred I have for guns. On the other hand, when I see a gun and a man together, that is the one thing I hate more. Guns are bad enough on their own, but in a man's hands, it becomes worse. Forget bombs; guns are the real weapons of mass destruction." "If I had known you hated guns, I wouldn't have brought it over here earlier." "Why don't you go a step further and say you wouldn't have aimed it at me on the roof earlier?" "I'm not going to. I had no idea who you were. Really, at that point in time, I didn't really care. My goal then was to incapacitate you and then learn your identity." "Well, at least you're honest about that." "I won't lie to you, Riley. I thought I made that clear in your apartment." She flinched. "You had to bring that night up again, didn't you?" "It's something of a sore spot with me. I'm sure you can understand that seeing as it really was your fault." "If you had just told me about your arm in the first place, I wouldn't have reacted so violently. I don't like surprises. In high school, Fred threw me a surprise birthday party. It didn't go very well. I freaked." "Fred, the girl that works at Angel Investigations?" "That's the one." "Does she know about you?" "Yes," she replied bluntly. "I saved her from a vampire in the tenth grade. I didn't tell her at the time what it was, but she figured it all out later." "So you would have rather I'd told you about my arm, huh? Have you stopped to consider that I might be a little wary of mentioning that to people? Whenever I do, I immediately get that reaction. I explained this to you earlier. There's a lot of negativity attached to this. I wanted you to know me and not my handicap. People might not think so, but I have feelings, too, you know." "I never said you didn't," she said softly. "Being different from everyone else, I know what it's like to be discriminated against. When you're faster and stronger than anyone else your age, the other kids pick on you because of it. If I'd known about that, I would have taken it better." "But not as well as you would have if I still had my arm." "Admittedly, no. I won't lie and say that I wouldn't treat you any differently than I would a regular person. However, I can't do that. There are things a one armed person can't do, things you can't do with them, so by definition, I would have to treat you a little differently." "So you weren't shunning me because of my arm. It was just because I wasn't completely honest with you in not telling you before things went as far as they did." "Sort of. I hope you aren't deluding yourself in thinking that things were going to go much farther than they had. I'm not in the habit of even kissing people I've only seen a couple times, so that in itself was unusual. I still can't figure out why I let you get even that close. In light of other things that have happened since then, I'm a little worried." "Like what?" "Not that it's your concern, but my strength seems to be fading. Someone else tried to pull a similar stunt with me, only I'm quite sure he intended to carry it all the way through. I couldn't push him away. He wasn't much bigger than you. I can break people much bigger than the two of you put together in half on a normal day, but I couldn't get rid of him. If Fred hadn't called me, I don't know how I would have handled it." Krycek's blood turned to ice. "This guy, where did he pull this? Your place? A park?" She blinked. "At work. Why?" "What is it that you do again?" "I'm an actor." "Are you doing any work at Production Stage 12?" She looked really puzzled now. "That's where I'm filming right now. Krycek, what's going on?" "It was Mulder, wasn't it? You flinched when I mentioned his name earlier. Is that why?" "It's no business of yours who it was, but yes. It's not so unusual that he tried that. I've attracted men since I was twelve. Disturbing, but true. Grandmother once told me that our looks our one of our best weapons. Most of the things we hunt have a hard time believing that anything that looks the way we do can't possibly be dangerous. Being a woman is sometimes your best weapon." Krycek's hands clenched into fists. "I'll kill him for this." "He didn't hurt me. Besides, this is not your fight. As the party involved, it's up to me to take it out on him or ask someone to. I didn't ask you for your help in this, so back down." "You're not really in any position to tell me what to do," he reminded her. Riley sighed and shook her head. "Naturally, you'll do whatever your y chromosome tells you to, but I ask that you use a little bit of common sense in this. What good will it do to go after Mulder for something he never got a chance to do. He didn't hurt me as I said before. All he wanted originally was to question me about the bodies. Fool. He had no idea who he was talking to." "None of us did." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for overreacting to that, but I can't really help it." "It's a possessive male thing. You don't own me, so don't do that again." "I can't really help how I'm wired, Riley." "If that were true, then my family would have died out with the rest of the villagers because my ancestor was too busy acting on her natural genetic disposition to pick up a sword and fight." He paused, looking at her carefully. "I'm not really sure how to respond to that. My life is too tangled for me to change." "It's never too late to change." "So by that statement, it's possible for you get over your dislike of men, right?" "If you want to look at it that way, I suppose so. I do have male friends, incidentally." "No boyfriend?" "Would I have let you kiss me if I did?" "I suppose not." "I don't. Never have. I haven't had the time or energy to start a relationship with anyone, never mind maintain it. What energy I have left after work goes into my real job, leaving me completely drained. It's also the only way to stop the nightmares. If I'm too tired to move, it means I'm too tired to see any dream imagery. The only reason I had one tonight was that I didn't actually exert myself with the vampire or the Kailiff demon. That was very light work for me." "What did you dream about?" "The same thing I do almost every time. My mother being killed. Over and over, each way more gruesome than the last, worse than the way she really was killed. Each time, it's a different demon. Recalling the images when I'm awake, I realize that each one is just me substituting the actual victim of the demon in question for my mother. Grandmother tells me that it's a guilt thing." "What do you do if you can't exhaust yourself enough to prevent the nightmares?" "Depends on the night. I don't really want to get into it, as that's really private." "You've told me so much about yourself already; I don't see how this is any different." "I don't discuss my personal habits with others. This is along the lines of telling you how I like to sleep at night, or how much sugar I like in my tea. It's just something that you don't really need to know." Krycek leaned in closer to her. "I want to know everything about you," he said, placing one hand over hers and stroking her cheek with the other. "I'm only going to tell you this once, so listen carefully. Don't touch me." "You didn't have a problem before." "I wasn't tied up then. I don't like being restrained or trussed up like an animal." "So if I untied you, would you have a problem with it?" "Under the given circumstances, yes. How can I even consider letting you after what you've done?" He stood up and looked down at her. "You're only in this predicament because of how you treated me before. Yes, I know we've talked about it and explained to each other why we did what we did, but all the talk in the world won't change the things that have happened. Knowing why you did something doesn't ease the hurt." Riley tried to sit up a little straighter. "I guess we're even." "What?" "I've hurt and humiliated you. You've tied me up, causing me a good deal of pain, and humiliated me by giving me food and water like you were feeding a small child. I'm a very proud person, and that was beyond anything anyone has ever done to me." "And this makes it all better?" "No. It was just an observation." He sat back down. "You're wrong if you think I'm done with you." "You've made your decision then?" "This is your last chance to make up your mind." She squirmed down to lie on her side. "I have no preference one way or the other. They all mean captivity, so it doesn't matter. One prison is the same as any other. They all mean an end to my freedom." "I'm going to take you back to my employers. Giving you over to Wolfram and Hart is too easy, too good. If I keep you here, I will give into my desires and drug you or try and force you. I don't want to do that, but I know it'll happen. I'm far too attracted to you to not know that. Get some sleep, Riley. We leave in the morning." He took a few steps away from her, but turned back to collect the plate and glass, putting them in the sink. He then returned the gun to its holster by the couch and came back over to her. "I wish this could have ended differently." "I've told you repeatedly how it could. You refused to listen before, so I won't say it again." He hesitated a moment and knelt down beside the bed, leaning in close to her, cupping her face. "I was listening," he said, kissing her. She stiffened and moved like she was trying to fight it, but her efforts barely registered to him. It was as if her body was betraying her mind. Just for curiosity's sake, he dragged it out to see what she would do. He ran his hand down her side and back up the front. Her skin shivered under his hand, her body moving a little closer to him. Interested, he brought both hands up to her face. It was damp. Startled, he pulled away. The look of panic on her face worried him. "Riley?" "You see? This is what I was trying to get through to you. Don't do that. There's something wrong with me, something that's keeping me from fighting it." "You're afraid." "Wouldn't you be if you that, suddenly, there was a threat that you could fight before that you now can't?" "Depends on the threat, but I can see your point. Good night, Riley. I hope you don't have another nightmare." He walked away without another word and settled on the couch. He only slept for a few hours when he heard Riley calling for him. He rubbed his eyes and got up. "What's wrong, Riley?" "Nothing's wrong," she said in a soft voice he'd never heard her use before. She'd rolled over onto her back, arms above her head. Her hair was fanned out around her head. "I just had something I felt I needed to share with you, something you'd want to know." He folded his arms across his bare chest. "What would that be?" "I did fall asleep, but I didn't have a nightmare. I found myself dreaming of you." "Of me?" She nodded. "I think I know why I wasn't able to fight you or Mulder off. It hadn't occurred to me until I woke up from that dream. There's a story a Hunter who had a similar problem. It turns out that it was her body telling her that he was an ideal match, that he'd make a good father for her daughter. I never paid much attention to that story as I didn't think it was possible." "So why me and Mulder? How can you tell which is which?" "Mulder I could still resist a little. You...You recall what happened in my apartment quite clearly, I assume?" "How can I forget?" he asked hoarsely. "I loathed you and yet you were able to get close, touch me the way no one else has. It was completely against my will, and yet I couldn't stop it. Again, earlier tonight, I couldn't stop you. Admittedly, I am tied up so there's little I could do to stop you, but I couldn't do anything. There's no denying what I felt beneath the panic. The need. I know that feeling. I don't often feel like that, but I've never felt it that strongly. I felt it again after I woke up. It was almost painful." He licked his lips and sat down beside her, putting a hand on her cheek. "This need of yours, it's that bad? It hurts?" She nodded vigorously, squirming a little. "It's unbearable." He leaned over her, hands on either side of her body. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he whispered, breathing heavily. "I think you know how you can," she replied, her voice sounding just as hoarsely as his. He lowered himself so that his face was mere inches from hers. He gazed into her eyes for a few moments before tentatively kissing her. Riley's lips parted, her head rising to meet his. Confident that she was serious, he laid his chest down on hers, running one hand up her leg from her knee, up to her chest. He let it sit over one breast before giving an experimental squeeze. She broke the kiss, moaning softly, her back arching beneath him. The cuffs clanked as she tried to pull her arms down around him. "If you let me go, I promise not to escape." "How can I trust you?" She rolled her eyes. "If I escape, I won't be able to relieve this ache. I told you, it hurts. If I stay put, I can ease it. Besides that, you aren't going to get anywhere with my legs all tied up like that, now are you? Judging by the look on your face, I see that hadn't really occurred to you. Relax, Alex. I'm not going anywhere." He started. "You just called me Alex." "Well, it's your name isn't it?" "Very few people call me Alex anymore." "Well, you're my biological match, so it only makes sense to grant you that courtesy. Or would you rather I continue calling you Krycek?" He sat up and started untying the knots around her feet. "Alex will be fine." When the last knot fell away, she wriggled her feet to regain feeling in them. He took the key to the cuffs out of his pants pocket and untied one of the cuffs and then set the key down on the table. She immediately sat up to rub her legs. "You'll understand if I only unlatch the one hand." "It's acceptable," she said, rolling onto her side, patting the mattress beside her. He lay down and took her into his arms. "I'll warn you now; I don't have a lot of practice at this. I don't even really know where to start." He kissed her. "Just go with it. Everything will fall into place as you go." She nodded and leaned into him, running her hands over his bare skin, feeling the strong muscles beneath the skin. She slid on hand down to his waist, toying with his belt. He shook beneath her hands as he explored her body, loosening the laces on her shirt, running his hands under it, around to the front to her stomach and up to her chest. He ran his hand over the smooth skin of her breasts for a minute before moving it down to her waist, looking for the zipper. Smiling against his lips, she moved his hand around to her back where the zipper really was. In a flash, it was down and he was easing her pants down off her hips. In retaliation, she undid his belt buckle so that she could get at the button of his jeans and then the zipper. She ran his hand over his hip, rubbing suggestively against him. His kissing intensified as he rolled Riley onto her back to get her pants the rest of the way off. He had to sit up to get them off her feet, but quickly turned his attentions back to her. Before he could blink, she flipped him onto his back and straddled him. He looked surprised, but when she started kissing his chest, he relaxed into it, letting her have her way for a little while. The more she kissed him, the more on fire his skin felt. He shook with need. He was starting to understand what Riley had said earlier about it being painful. This was a pain he could happily get used to. Never had it felt so good to have his entire body ache. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he sat up, taking her with him. She looked into his eyes, seeing the barely restrained hunger. Smiling, she knelt in front of him so that her chest was at the same level as his head. Slowly, she finished unlacing her top and took it off. The bra underneath wasn't pretty by any ordinary definition. It was designed to keep her chest still while she worked. Krycek put his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. He spun himself around and lowered her to the mattress, asking the question with his hands that he dared not ask out loud for fear that she wasn't ready yet. He simply nodded, smiled, and toyed with the top of his jeans. He started to slide them off when Riley grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and cracked him on the back of the head with it, knocking him out cold. End Of Part Twelve |
Hunter's Moonby Purenightshade |