Disclaimer: Fox and Alliance own Due South and the X-Files. I have NO
idea who owns Early Edition, but it's not mine either. All the usual
copyright disclaimers apply.
This a dS/X-Files/Early Edition X-over. My first attempt at Fan-fic.
Hope you like it!
Chiq.

Voodoo Magic


The cold wind swept across Chicago, the unlikely scene for a gruesome
string of murders. Or what looked like murders. Five dead bodies were
found, all with unexplainable wounds. Deep, from which oozed a stream of
red blood. The victims faces were twisted with pain. There was no
logical explanation. The police had unproven theories, none of them
could offer any hope in solving the impossible.
~
Fox Mulder, maverick of the FBI world, turned up his collar with a
shudder. His hair was tossed into an unrecogizable mess. "Gee, wonder
why they call it the windy city?" He gave his partner a loopy grin.
"You are so corny Mulder." Dana Scully, a big-time skeptic, eyed her
less-than-likely partner. She pursed her full lips together, trying not
to smile at Mulder's expession. He was unbelivable sometimes. She walked
at an even pace. "Any idea where the police department is?" She asked.
"Probably where that sign says, Chicago Police Department, acress the
street. You really can be unobservant for a Fed, Scully." Mulder sounded
slightly edgy, his sarcasm was tuned up to top notch.
"Right."
The two agents walked into the department and immediately felt out of
place, not that that was new. Mulder walked up to a woman and said. "I'd
like to speak to Vecchio please."
Elaine Bresbiss snorted. "Ray's by his desk. Down the hall to the left.
Do not expect him to be too friendly." She looked the handsome agent up
and down. "Francesca'll like YOU, though." She winked.
"Right..." Mulder said in a tone similar to his partner's.
Scully smiled uneasily.
Ray Vecchio was sitting at his desk talking to Benny Fraser. "Ya know
that he'll be back someday. I may just stay on though, Benny..." He
stoped when he saw Mulder and Scully approaching them.
Fraser stood up and smoothed out his striking red uniform. "Good-day
Agent Scully, Agent Mulder." He nodded at them as he said their names.
"I didn't want the Feds to get involved. But what can a guy do?" Ray
eyed Mulder. "You gonna solve this case for me, Agent Mulder?" He ran his
fingers through his short brown hair.
"That's what I'm here for, Detective." He snapped, obviously very
peed-off.
"Easy." Scully said softly, resting a gentle hand on his arm. "Sorry
Detective... long flight. We would like the case files if you don't
mind. To get us on track." She held out her other hand to the guy in
red.
Fraser took it, warmly. "I'm Benton Fraser, a Constable at the RCMP."
"You seem to know me. May I ask how?"
"I was the one who called you in. I've heard about your work and the
X-Files."
Scully looked surprised. "How did you find out about us?"
"One can find out a lot about from the newspaper." Fraser flashed an
embarresed smile. "I remembered a few articles from a few months ago."
"Do you always get your man, Fraser?" It was Mulder who posed this
question, he was taking a liking to the near perfect mountie.
"Begging your pardon, I'm sure that I could not possibly answer that
question appropriately." Fraser turned the attention to Ray, who was
standing there with daggers flying from his brown eyes. "Why don't you
give a brief report on the.. uh... crime Ray."
"It's pretty straight-forward. Five poeple were found this past week,
all with pretty mean wounds. Blood everywhere. No known weapon, no
suspects whatsoever."
Ray smirked. "A downtown cop reakons it was Voodoo."
"Voodoo?" Scully quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Black Magic. He thinks the wounds were caused by the use of Voodoo
dolls."
"Huh. Nice of Skinner to tell us this. Not that it really matters..."
Mulder was cut of by Francesca Vecchio, who dashed up to him with a
delighted smile.
"I'm Francesca, Ray's sister." She gripped Mulders hand. "And YOU are?"
"Not interested." Mulder shook his hand to try to release her fierce
grip.
"Franny, be a good girl and let go of the nice FBI man." Ray said,
deadpan.
Fraser's mouth twitched, Scully noticed. He was trying to keep his
composure. "Frances..." He smiled as Franny interrupted him.
"Fraser! I didn't, I mean..."
The mountie's smile flipped into a distinctive rumbling sound. His laugh
was deep and it clearly surprised Ray.
"Franny, will you PLEASE go?" He watched his sister for a few seconds.
"Now would be nice." He snapped when she didn't move.
Franny dashed off and Mulder sighed in relief. "Oh GOD, say she doesn't
work here. Say I'll never see her again." He muttered.
"It's a temporary thing. We try to bear her." Fraser winked at Ray.
~
Fraser walked down the street, his dog, Diefenbaker close by him. "I
don't know what to make of those FBI people, Dief. They seem so...
lonely." He glanced at Dief, who seemed to listen to him. "Agent Scully
was friendly enought, though Agent Mulder was rather rude. I can't
really believe his attitude!"
Dief whined his agreement and pranced ahead of Fraser, right into an
attractive woman with sunset-red hair.
"Sorry ma'am... Diefenbaker can be.. uhhh... sorry." Fraser muttered
uncharacteristicly.
"No apologies nessesary! I happen to like dogs very much!" She had that
Canadian tilt to her voice, Fraser noticed.
"I'm Constable Benton Fraser of the..."
"Royal Canadian Mounted Police! I'm a Mountie too, I'm here to see my
close friend, Meg Thatcher. You know her? By the way, I'm Constable
Jordan Mackenzie."
"Inspector Thatcher is my commanding officer." Fraser looked surprised.
"JORDAN Mackenzie? You're the mountie that saved that family up in the
Yukon a year ago!"
"So you know my work." Jordan grinned.
~
Mulder sat down in one of the booths in McGintys, a restaurant
reccomended by Ray. He glanced across the room. It seemed homely enough,
really. Nothing wrong with the atmosphere either. Music played softly,
Abba, ugh! He pulled a face.
"What's wrong, Mulder?" Scully demanded.
"Abba. Kills the mood." Mulder's expression lightened. "Ah a waiter! I'd
like a Valpre sparkling and a ..."
The guy raised one of his eyebrows. He had a slightly chubby face and
light brown hair that didn't really seem to suit him. "I'm Chuck
Fishman. I own this joint. If you have any complaints..." He looked
directly at Scully. "Be sure to send them straight to me. Bon Appetit.
Enjoy your meal." He rushed off elsewhere.
"I want to leave. With an owner like that, one can't really expect good
food." Scully grimaced.
"Don't worry. He said we can Chuck all our complaints at him."
Gary Hobbson glared at Chuck. "You really made them feel welcome." He
held out the Chicago Sun Times. "Check this out. 'FBI Investigates
String Of Murders. Agents Scully and Mulder were called in last week
to...'"
Chuck interrupeted him. "Put a sock in it, Gar. I'm only interested in
the woman. Who is SHE?"
"It doesn't specify. There is a picture though." Scully had a determined
look on her face and Mulder looked distant. "Hmmm..." Gary mused.
"We'll know a day ahead who the killer is, Gary. Think about the
possibilities!"
"Give it up, Chuck. The newspaper is not meant for that kind of work."
"God! You don't take advantage of the thing that are given you! This
paper is gonna ruin your life Gar."
~
~~~End Segment1~~~

You like??? I hope you did because this a first attempt. All Comments
are appreciated!

Watch out for Voodoo Dreams!