Chicago Holiday (PG-13 Version) Disclaimer: Hang onto your hats, boys and girls, this one's going to be long! (the disclaimer *and* the story) Okay, this story lovingly portrays characters from two television series. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any mention of previously written X-Files belong to Chris Carter (god), Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Television. Benton Fraser, Ray Vecchio, Lieutenant Welsh, Inspector Thatcher, Elaine, and Agent Ford are inventions of the great minds of Paul Haggis, Jeff King, and Kathy Slevin, and belong to CTV and Alliance Communications Corporation (I'd include CBS, but the friends of Due South will understand why I don't...). They're not mine, I don't make any claim on them, other than borrowing them and playing 'doll' with them. They're back with their owners and I didn't harm them (well, not permanently, anyway ;). I'm a poor student with practically no money to pay next month's rent, so suing me would be an exercise in futility. (*Please* don't hurt me!) The other characters are mine! (Okay, Chantal isn't mine, she's a real person, but she was all for it when she found out she'd be licked by the Mountie -- too bad that didn't happen, but I think she'll like the ending even more. ;) Some spoilers for both shows, but I'm too lazy to go back and figure out which episodes apply. Of course, this story might not have been made if CC had admitted to the deep love between his two lead characters but would he listen to us????? Noooooo!!!!!! Well, this is what happens when you don't... Bwaaaaa haaaa haaaaa!!!!!!! This is the PG version of my story. If you're not a minor and want something a little more 'interesting', then I recommend you read that version. For those of you who are minors and chose to read this version, I congratulate you. :) You won't be going blind. I began working on this story last August (when I was trying to write my Master's thesis on something closely related to apoptosis and failing miserably, but I've since managed and I'll be getting that diploma anytime soon...) I used what I thought was an original idea: a genetic mutant that regrows parts of its body. Then, this Friday, I found out a few things about the next X-Files episode, Leonard Betts, and I thought "Gee, doesn't that seem familiar?" So, in order to not look like I'd stolen someone else's idea, I cranked out the rest of the story yesterday (about 70K - which meant sitting at my computer for 15 hours straight). So I apologize if the proof reading's not perfect. I may re-post a revised version later on. As for who came up with the idea of a genetic mutant that can regrow parts of its body, tell ya what , Chris, we'll let the lawyers fight that one out, okay? (kidding! I was first!) Uh... what else? Oh yeah! Special thanks to my proofreaders/people who commented/people who promised to comment/people who laughed at the scenes I was typing on IRC: Chantal (proofreader and character extraordinaire), Rhoni (get back on-line!), Gil, and the IRC gang (Kelly, Teresa, Sarah, Marnee, and anyone else I've forgotten - Oh, and cheesedip? Here's the smut you were waiting for ) Any and all comments on my story are appreciated. I *love* seeing 30 email messages waiting for me when I log on. :) Flames will be used to warm my apartment - I *do* live in Canada you know. :) Summary: When the fingerprints of a man whose fingers were severed appear at a recent crime scene, agents Mulder and Scully are called in to team up with detective Vecchio and constable Fraser in order to investigate. This is a crossover, but you don't need to have watched Due South to follow this story. It just adds nuances. Classification: C (XF/Due South) MSR This is a *sequel* to another fanfic I wrote: Wearing. I recommend you read that one before you read this, so you understand what's going on. There's also a mention of another story I wrote, The Morning After. (Both are available on the Gossamer archives) Chicago Holiday? by Nancy Lemieux (nlemie@po-box.mcgill.ca) Chantal was tired. She'd had a long day at the office, and all she wanted to do right now was to get in her car, drive home, pop a couple of aspirins and take a long soak in her designer tub to get her mind off the day's events. First it had been the flat tire, then the misplaced orders that had cost her company thousands of dollars and forced her to do some quick apologizing to her customers, and then the headache had come. Pounding in her ears, putting pressure behind her eyes, making her want to just crawl under the covers of her bed. Maybe she'd just skip the bath and go straight to bed, she thought, reaching her car. As she poised her keys to unlock the door, she heard a scuffing sound somewhere behind her. Turning quickly, all she could see was a row of parked cars along the sidewalk and some trees lining the side of the semi-commercial street. She held her breath - waiting to see if she would hear anything else, or if she could detect a movement somewhere in the shadows -- which were growing quickly as the sun set facing her. Squinting and holding her hand to block the sun, she craned her neck forward to get a better view of what was around her. Nothing. Satisfied that there was no one there, she turned around, mentally chiding herself for getting overly paranoid. Yes, this *was* Chicago, but it didn't mean that every criminal was out to get her. It had probably just been one of the last squirrels of the day, climbing up a branch to find a resting place for the night, or something. She had just unlocked the door when she heard it again. This time it was clearer. Steps coming for her, quickly. Instincts kicking in, she yanked her car door open, hoping for a quick get-away. She was just reaching out to shut the door when she felt someone grab her arm and pull her out of the car. Yelling at the top of her voice, she kicked and punched out furiously, trying to get at her assailant. She heard a groan as one of her kicks connected, then felt a wrenching in her shoulder as her arm was twisted backwards. Yelping in pain, she reached back and elbowed the attacker in the solar plexus. She heard a distinct male groan as she felt the grip on her arm loosen. She tried pulling it free with no success. The grip tightened again, and she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her trapezoid as a needle penetrated the skin, right into the muscle. A burning sensation instantly started to spread from that area, invading her shoulder, neck and back. She was being drugged! The realization caused a powerful adrenaline rush, and she struggled mightily to escape. Her assailant pushed her against the car, grabbing her hands and turning her around. That's when she saw him. He was taller than her, perhaps 6 foot two, muscular, most probably a weight trainer. She dared herself to look at his face, and was disappointed to see him wearing a ski mask. All she could see was his lips, curled into a sneer, and his grey eyes, boring into her with a stare so full of animosity she flinched. The heat was spreading. It was now in her arm, in her chest, and with panic starting to really sink in, she realized that it was spreading through her head. She didn't have much time left. Looking straight into his eyes, she suddenly catapulted forward, butting his nose with her forehead. He reeled back a bit and let her hands go. Reaching into her pants pocket, she felt her Swiss army knife, pulled it out and snapped the blade open. Without wasting a second, she slashed out towards his face in a well-rehearsed Kali move - a fake meant to disconcert him. He pulled up his hands, trying to protect himself, and that's when she exploded. In one smooth curving motion she slashed out at his wrists, curved back to slash at his abdomen, then retreated the blade only for a second before embedding it right below his rib cage. He let out a garbled scream, backing away. Sensing her chance, she picked up her car keys where they had fallen, dove for the driver's seat, and tried to put her key in the ignition. It took several attempts, seeing as her head was spinning like a wild carnival ride. She took a deep breath and started the car. Turning to shut the car door, she saw him diving towards her. Summoning the last of her strength she shut the door with all her might, just as he was about to touch her. Ignoring his screams, she put the car in gear and gunned the accelerator, concentrating on making it to the corner of the street, and turning left at the T intersection. Before she had made it a hundred yards the world went black. ******* "What I'm saying, Benny, is that you should try getting out of that uniform more often. I realize that there are some women who like their men in uniform, but you'd be opening yourself to a bigger market if you put on a suit, and a silk shirt... like me.." "Well, that's not true, Ray. In all factuality, I *do*, on occasion, put on a suit. And while I must concede the comfort and softness of the fabric, I feel that a silk shirt just doesn't put forth the proper image, which is why I prefer to wear... RAY LOOK OUT!" The driver of the 1971 Buick Riviera just had time to look back at the road and swerve out of the way as a grey BMW ran a stop sign right in front of him. Hitting the brakes, the Riv screeched to a halt right before the high-priced car ran straight into the brick wall of the store in front of the T intersection. Ray took a second to take in the scene. His passenger, however, wasted no time in leaping out of the car to run towards the accident, assessing the situation and yelling back "There's a woman in here, I think she's hurt." Taking only half a second to for his mind register this, the driver reached down towards the dashboard and grabbed the mouthpiece of his car radio. "This is detective Vecchio, requesting emergency medical assistance at the corner of Oak and 4th. There's been an accident, with a possible injury. Over." "Roger, detective. An ambulance is being dispatched now." He didn't wait to hear the rest. He quickly ran out of the Riv and headed towards his friend, who was trying to pry open the driverside door. Working together, they quickly managed to do so. Ray reached in to check the woman's pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. Faint but regular, and she was breathing. "She's alive Benny, but I think the crash knocked her out. I don't think we should move her, just in case she's got a spinal injury." "I think that's wise Ray." "So, do you have any idea what could have caused this?" "Well, right now I think there isn't sufficient information to actually explain what happened here. However, there are several possibilities. She was draped over her steering wheel when she ran the stoplight, which would indicate she was already unconscious at that point. There could be several reasons for this... heart attack, stroke, seizure, fainting... the possibilities are practically endless. Now, many road accidents are caused by drivers falling asleep at the wheel, but given the fact she was driving in the city and that Oak street isn't that long, I've ruled out that possibility." "Maybe she was diabetic." "Yes, Ray. That's another possible theory. She may have become hyper or hypo-glycemic, which might easily cause her to lose consciousness. Now, the easiest way to find out if she has a medical condition -other than special jewelry, which she doesn't have - is to look at her drivers' license. Therefore, I suggest we search for her purse." "I'll do that. You try and search for other clues as to why this might have happened." "Okay." As Benny moved around towards the front of the car, Ray bent over to try and find the purse, finding it at his feet where it had slid to the ground when the door had opened. Reaching down, he picked it up to search for her wallet when he noticed something else on the ground. "Oh my god, Fraser. Come here!" Hearing the tone in his friend's voice, Benny quickly ran back from the front of the car and stopped to look where his friend was pointing. "Great Scott!!!!!" ***** "What is it now, Mulder?" "Good morning to you too, Scully!" She had wanted to greet him as she entered his office, but had stopped herself when she'd seen the look on his face. He was onto something, which meant they were about to embark on a case, and to tell the truth, she didn't want to have to pack and take off for god knows where this morning. Sighing, she dropped her briefcase on a table and headed for the coffee machine. "I'm sorry. Good morning, Mulder. What is it now?" He grinned at her, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "Well, since you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?" She gave him one of her looks which meant she was in no mood for his jokes, and he shrugged. Pulling out a file, he handed it to her. "Two weeks ago, Chantal Valerie Kuhn, a Chicago resident, was attacked by someone. He injected her with a sedative, but she managed to fight him off long enough to get into her car and drive away. Several moments later she lost consciousness and crashed into a nearby brick building. The suspect was never apprehended." "That doesn't sound like our field of investigation." "You'd think so at first glance, but that's not all. Apparently, during her struggle, she managed to close the car door on her attacker's hand and severed three fingers. A thumb, index, and middle finger. Left hand." "Good for her. That should make the suspect easy to identify. Have the local hospitals been notified of the possibility of a man with severed fingers coming in for treatment?" "Yes. No one with such a description was treated in any of the Chicago area hospitals. The fingerprints were taken, and matched those of an unknown criminal who had previously been wanted for three rapes and several robberies." "That still doesn't explain to me why our help is being requested." Mulder looked at his partner and grinned. She was ever the pragmatic, analytical scientist... "Ah, but you see, two days ago someone called the Chicago police after their house had been broken into. The forensics team lifted some prints, and it turns out that they were an exact match to the assailant who attacked miss Kuhn. Thumb and index finger, left hand." He stopped, gauging his partner's expression. Her eyes widened and her jaw fell open as the realization hit her. "But Mulder, that's impossible!" "You'd think so. Yet they're absolutely positive. It's a 100% match, and you remember what they taught us at the academy." "His fingers have been cut off! It's not like you can just re-grow something like that!" "That," he replied, taking her coat and briefcase and handing them to her, "is precisely why we're leaving for Chicago. The plane leaves in one hour. We just have to go home and pack, which leaves me with one final question..." "What?" "Your place or mine?" She gave him a look that could melt tempered steel, and he laughed as he put his hand to the small of her back to escort her out of his office, noticing the shiver that went through her at the contact. ************ A man in a light grey suit extended his hand as welcome. "Agent Mulder, nice to see you again." "Agent Ford." Mulder shook hands with him, and pointed towards his partner. "This is agent Scully." Ford nodded towards her, took her hand in greeting and she smiled. "Agent Scully, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about the two of you." "Well whatever you heard, none of it's true." Mulder deadpanned. That caught the Chicago office agent off guard. He'd heard all the stories, about Spooky Mulder and his skeptical partner, and even met Mulder at a bar once in D.C. ... on a night where he had been rather drunk and couldn't remember anything else. Yet these two seemed *normal*. Surely some of the rumours *had* to have been exaggerated. Recovering as best he could, he led the two agents out of the airport and towards his car. "There's a car waiting for you at our offices. I thought we'd go there first... that is unless you'd like to get settled in your hotel rooms first. "No, that's alright. We might as well get started on the case. It's still early. We'll drive out to the hotel later, when we get our car." Those were the first words Ford had heard from Scully. Not that she hadn't said anything, but it had all been directed towards her partner, and had come across in silent communication. "How much do you know about this case?" Ford asked. "Well, only what was in the report your office sent us. A woman was accosted, almost kidnapped, but she managed to get away, taking three of the assailant's fingers with her. Then, less than two weeks later, the same prints show up elsewhere, in a B case." "That's right, agent Mulder, and this case has us completely stumped. It's *impossible* that the same prints could have shown up at that second crime. There's something strange going on, and when we couldn't get any sort of explanation, we called you in." "Did you hear that, Scully? Our reputation precedes us." Mulder glanced at Scully, who was looking back at him and barely suppressing a grin from his joke. Ford, on the other hand, didn't look particularly happy about his last crack. *So he knows about 'Spooky',* thought Mulder. He was about to make a crack about apparitions when he felt a punch in his side. He looked up to see Scully give him a warning look. Oh, she was good. Now she could even figure out when he was going to throw a wisecrack before he did so. He gave her his best contrite look, and patted her thigh, in what was meant to be a reassuring way. What he wasn't expecting was the colour that suddenly rose to her cheeks. She was getting flustered by just that touch? Come to think of it, he was feeling something stirring in his stomach... butterflies? As quickly, yet subtly, as possible he removed his hand from her thigh and returned it to his own lap. Imprisoning it with his other hand before it felt the urge to wander again. Luckily, during this whole exchange, Ford had been busy trying to get past a small traffic jam created by a truck trying to back out of a driveway, and a car that was double parked. By the time he glanced at his rear view mirror, both agents were absorbed by the view of the Chicago suburbs. Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the Chicago FBI offices. Ford escorted them to his office. He told his assistant to have the car ready and waiting for them, then showed them inside and handed them all the notes relative to the case, including the tape of the victim's interview and the official police report. Without a word, the team sat down at a desk and pored over the new material, pausing only to exchange comments on this or that aspect of what they were reading. Ford surveyed them with a wary eye, not sure what to expect from the two most talked-about pair of agents in the Bureau, before turning back to some pressing business on his desk. When Mulder had finished going over the police report with a fine-toothed comb, he stirred, catching Ford's attention. "Agent Ford, there's a detail here that doesn't compute." "And what might that be?" "Is the victim a Canadian citizen?" Ford was taken aback by this. Where had this question come from? "No. She's an American citizen, despite her name, although her mother is French. Why on earth would you ask me that?" "Well, it's simple," Mulder began, trying hard to not use the condescending tone he often used when agents didn't catch on to his line of questioning right away, "the report states that two men were assigned to the investigation, right?" "Yes..." Ford was still not following. "And it states quite clearly that these men were a certain detective Raymond Vecchio of the Chicago Police Department, and a constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, right?" "That's quite right." Ford grinned, realizing that this agent had no way of knowing of the friendship between Vecchio and Fraser. "So then why, if the victim isn't a Canadian citizen, was a member of the Canadian diplomatic contingency brought into this investigation?" "Oh, he wasn't 'brought into' the investigation... he was there from the start." That response phased Mulder, who took on an interested look as he waited for the agent to finish his story. This couldn't be the Mountie Ford had talked about that night in D.C., in the bar, could it? His mind was fuzzy about that night, and he'd since forgotten the story, but he still remembered the impression of a greater-than-life constable. "Truth of the matter is, we couldn't get rid of him if we tried. He's best friends with the detective in question, and has been meddling in police affairs around here for two years now." *********** Ford looked at Mulder, to see an amused grin spread across his face. Obviously the special agent was enjoying his discomfort. He continued his description. "Now, before you decide to take a sudden liking to this pair, I suggest you hear me out. I've had dealings with these two men before. A story about terrorists, a train, and a subsequent hostage taking whose details I won't go into, but suffice it to say that these officers don't have much respect for the Bureau." "Is there a particular reason for this? Something we should be aware of before we meet them?" "Nothing in particular... let's just say that they're not exactly fond of our procedures." Mulder grinned to himself... these two sounded better and better with every sentence that came out of Ford's mouth. Scully, on the other hand, was not so happy. Dealing with Mulder on a daily basis was already taxing enough when he was hot on the trail of a new suspect, without having to deal with a couple of maverick police officers. Especially when one of them wasn't even a citizen of this country. She glanced over at her partner, and was dismayed to see the excitement building in him. It wasn't really apparent to the untrained individual, but having spent so much time with him she could recognize the signs. Subtle changes in posture, a faint flush, some sort of energy that emanated from him. The signs were there, and she wasn't too happy to see them. She had hoped to start off this investigation slowly, spend some time getting accustomed to the surroundings... perhaps a few strategy session alone with Mulder. She stopped herself at the last remark, feeling the tingling sensation coursing through her at the thought of spending time alone with Mulder. This was not good. Not good at all. Ever since they'd had that conversation at her apartment - when he thought she was an impostor and they'd practically gone over the edge, only to finally admit their true feelings for one another - they'd avoided any time alone outside of work hours. Despite their earlier resolutions to have some more social time together, it seemed the safest thing to do for the moment, considering the level of arousal he could create in her just from the thought of the two of them alone. She knew how she felt, and she knew how he felt, but she didn't want the rest of the world to know... not yet, anyway. She was shaken out of her reverie by the sound of Mulder, saying her name. "Scully, did you hear what I just said?" She blinked a few times, waiting for her surroundings to come back into focus before answering. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I was just trying to sort out a few facts. I wasn't paying attention. What did you say?" "I said that now that we've finished all the available details of the case, we should head over to the police station to see the two investigators before we go over and interview Miss Kuhn ourselves." "That sounds fine, Mulder." She reached down to pick up the few remaining papers, putting them in her briefcase and then grasping her coat. She stilled as Ford broke in, his tone suddenly hesitant. "I've told you that these two aren't exactly conventional, but I feel that I must warn you. They *really* don't take kindly to FBI agents, and they most probably treat you with disdain, if not outright aggressiveness. Well, Vecchio at least. That Mountie isn't the type to yell and insult. You know.... typical Canadian temperament. And whatever happens, I hope you don't run into his immediate superior..." He stopped there, although it was obvious he was leaving much unsaid. ***** "Elaine... aren't you done with the license plate check, yet?' "I'm not your personal slave, Vecchio. I *do* have other things to attend to, you know." Ray's tone took on a honeyed quality as he spoke to his colleague, trying his best to turn on the charm in order to get his request as top priority. "Aw.... Elaine... you know you mean the world to me." "Yeah, that's why you boss me around, never talk to me except when you need favours, and even pull me away from a comfortable day off to help you find some file in the archives when your butt's in the sling.... I don't think so!" She was smiling. The banter was always the same... everybody assumed that it was their god-given right to ask her for favours. "I'll tell you what. You spare Fraser for a few minutes to help me, and I'll make sure your request gets top priority." She batted her eyelashes suggestively at the officer who was sitting on the chair next to Ray's desk, and barely suppressed a giggle as he quickly shifted his glance away from her and tried to make himself as small as possible while turning a shade of red only slightly paler than the colour of the serge uniform he was wearing. Elaine giggled silently this time. A man his age, as attractive as he was, and he still wasn't quite comfortable with women's constant advances... would wonders never cease? Ray groaned. What was it about his best friend that turned most women into silly putty? Okay, he was tall, in excellent shape, and wearing a uniform, but so what? "Benny, do you have to keep doing that?" "Do what, Ray?" "Wear that uniform... I'm tired of seeing all the female coworkers throw themselves at your feet." Fraser stopped for a second... apparently pondering the remark. "I'm confused, Ray... weren't you telling me just a couple of weeks ago that I should wear something *other* than my uniform to attract women?" "No I wasn't." "I beg to differ, but I quite distinctly remember that was what we were discussing before you swerved to miss that woman whose case we're investigating." "Well, I'm glad to see you're actively discussing the case." *********** Both men turned around to see where that voice was coming from, and stopped as they took in the sight of the tall man and the redhead woman standing next to him. Both wore serious expressions and trenchcoats, which could only mean one thing. Ray rolled his eyes heavenward as he cursed silently. Fibbies... just what he needed. Mulder stepped forward, extending his hand towards the Italian detective. "Well, before we get down to business, I guess we should get the introductions out of the way. I'm special agent Fox Mulder, and this is my partner, special agent Dana Scully." Both agents flipped out their badges, and waited while the other two examined them. Vecchio didn't let his eyes rest too long on the ID's, preferring to concentrate on the petite agent. Scully rolled her eyes as she saw Vecchio giving her a lascivious once-over. **Men!** She mentally groaned, but quickly corrected, as she realized that the Canadian officer, while also obviously affected by her looks, was keeping a much calmer facade and not exhibiting similar lewd behaviour. "Well, well, Fraser... if it isn't the FBI. What could we have possibly done to deserve the honour of their visit?" Mulder put on a sardonic smile, the one he reserved for those who couldn't resist calling him 'Spooky'. "Likewise, detective. But while I'd love to stand here and exchange more niceties with you, I'm afraid we've got an investigation to take care of, and we need your help to do so." Fraser, keenly observing the reactions of both men, chose this time to jump in. "We'd be more than happy to assist you in any way we can, agent Mulder." Vecchio shot his friend a nasty look. Why did he always have to be so *nice* to everyone? Hadn't he learned that FBI agents were up to no good? Those classes at Quantico were all the same, and most certainly included 'How to be a pain in the neck 101'. "Well, for starters, we'd like to examine the evidence that was gathered in this case, including the severed fingers." Scully broke in, having seen the detective's reaction and deciding that a courteous, professional approach might just put his mind at rest regarding herself and Mulder. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mulder relax. "We'd be more than happy to help you, Mrs. Scully, or is that Miss Scully?" "Agent Scully." She wasn't about to let that Italian detective try and close in on her. It was hard enough keeping the professional respect of many men in law enforcement without having one try and get too familiar with her. "Alright, *agent* Scully. The evidence is in our storage room downstairs, except for the fingers, which have been kept in cold storage at the county morgue." Scully nodded, already going through a mental checklist of tests which should be performed on the severed fingers... DNA analysis, search for material under the fingernails, another set of fingerprints to be made, blood typing... "We would like to examine the evidence, if you don't mind, but first I'd like to hear your account of what happened when you first arrived on the scene." Ray glared at Mulder. "Our account is already filed away in the report." Mulder gave him a slow smile, trying to look condescending. "Yes, I'm aware of that, detective Vecchio, but I think that we might profit from hearing the account directly from you. There might be a detail you've forgotten to include, or an account which somehow got transcribed improperly, which could affect the outcome of the case. I'm also curious as to what your theory is on how a man whose fingers have been severed could later commit a robbery and leave fingerprints. What about the description of the culprit? Did the victim say anything unusual about him? Appearance? A particular smell? Flashing lights, or loss of time?" Scully shot Mulder a warning glance. He was digging himself deeper, and taking off on a tangent which she didn't appreciate. Both policemen simply shrugged, beginning their account of the accident and the investigation they'd performed afterwards. Mulder and Scully paid careful attention to the details of the account unfolding before them, and asked some questions, but overall didn't glean any new information. Half an hour later, with the story complete, they thanked the two men for their time, and headed out to the suburbs to interview the victim. ******** The rental car slid to a halt in front of 206 West 38th street. Despite being a standard nondescript blue sedan, it actually stood out in this high class residential area, where the number of luxury cars displayed in your driveway was but one mark of social standing. Another was the actual house itself, where each neighbour tried to outdo the other in the architecture, and the layout of the grounds was a ferocious battle led by gardeners, who all claimed to be *the* expert in their field. Chantal Kuhn's house was certainly not the biggest, nor did it have the most cars lined outside, or the prettiest front lawn, but the ivy-laden stone house, terrain aesthetics, and obvious cost of her property hinted to her high-paying job in the business district. Obviously she knew how to handle the stock exchange. Scully checked that her notepad and case file were in her briefcase, and got out of the car, shaking Mulder out of his intense observation of the property. As she turned to lock the door, he caught her attention. "I figure that in about 15 years, the promotions we'll have garnered from our excellent work at the Bureau should make buying a house like this a breeze." He smirked and gazed into her eyes to gauge the effect his joke had on her. Scully rolled her eyes in theatrical frustration, but blushed slightly. She couldn't help it. The first thought that had crossed her mind was that of their buying a house like this *together*. Darting a look towards Mulder, she saw he had noticed her blushing, but she was amused to see him having difficulty to swallow -- as if his throat had just gone dry. She caught his gaze and held it for a second, in awe that he could have reactions like this because of her. The reality of their recent mutual confessions of love and their subsequent decision to not act on it immediately was starting to take its toll. "Well, shall we?" His phrase broke her train of thought and she nodded, waiting for him as he rounded the front of the car. Reaching her, he gently placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the front of the house. The world stopped for both of them as each felt a burst of heat pervading them. Scully took a cleansing breath, somehow willing away the tension that had begun to coil in her lower abdomen, and relaxed as the heat changed to a sense of peace and security. Mulder, on the other hand, was not having such an easy time controlling himself, and was busy thinking cold thoughts to get his body temperature back to normal. *Think cold... think cold... snow... ice... Arctic -- uh... nope, not that...* Visions of the Arctic Ice Core Project began flooding his mind. Fear for his life and Scully's, the strange parasite, the worry that they might be infected, and the electricity generated as they had examined each other's necks and backs. He felt tingly as the blood began leaving his brain for another peripheral location. Heroically, he pushed the images out of his mind and forced himself to visualize taking an ice cold bath. As he felt his heart rate returning to normal, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. It would not have done to have the woman they were about to interview answer the door and see him in a state of arousal. His position at the Bureau was already too precarious to add something like this to his record. As he suddenly remembered Scully at his side he turned to look at her, praying to whatever might be out there that she hadn't been aware of what had just happened to him. Luckily, she seemed to be taken with her own thoughts, and had not noticed his reactions. He breathed another sigh of relief. By the time they reached the door, both had their professional demeanour back. *********** The door was answered almost immediately. They were greeted by a woman who looked at them questioningly. "Good afternoon, I'm special agent Mulder from the FBI, and this is my partner agent Scully. We're looking for Chantal Valerie Kuhn." She smiled, hearing her name pronounced incorrectly. It came as no surprise. Most Americans (and then again most everyone on this planet) weren't aware of the special accents her French names required. "That would be me. I was told to expect you today. Why don't you come in, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like some tea or coffee?" She led them into her spacious living room, leaving momentarily to prepare the requested coffee as the two agents settled into some very comfortable seats. Minutes later she returned with the brew, complete with some hors-d'oeuvres. Both accepted their cups with a word of thanks, but did not touch the food. Obviously, they were here for business, and would not waste any more time than necessary getting down to it. After the two agents had exchanged glances, Mulder spoke up. "Miss Kuhn, I imagine it's no secret as to why we're here. We're investigating the assault you reported a few weeks ago and would like to hear your version of the facts, if possible." Chantal paused for a second to sort out her reply. After a moment she opened her mouth to begin, then hesitated as a thought crossed her mind. "I'm sure you're aware that I already made a statement, and have had to repeat my story countless times to a series of policemen, and even another agent from the FBI. I'm curious as to why you don't just use the reports which must have been generated from that." Scully smiled a reassuring smile. Obviously this woman was highly intelligent. It was understandable that she might tire of telling her story, but her statement had held more. It was as if she knew that Mulder and herself wanted more. Leaning forward slightly, she answered. "We understand your point of view, Miss Kuhn, but the fact of the matter is we would rather hear the account directly from you. Perhaps retelling it will jog some memory that may shed some light on the case. We also have a somewhat different approach from that of the police force, so we may come to a different conclusion than what was in the police report. I'm sorry if this brings back painful memories. Please take your time, but we would greatly appreciate your cooperation if you want the suspect apprehended quickly." Chantal nodded, and mentally braced herself to relive the attack in her mind. Taking a breath, she began her story. She told them about the apprehension as she neared her car, about the sudden attack from behind, the struggle, her retaliation, the drug, and the escape from the car, up to the point where she crashed the car. Mulder nodded, listening attentively while Scully wrote some notes on her pad. He waited patiently until she had gotten to the point where the two officers had gotten involved, and then interrupted her. "I want to hear the account of what you may remember once Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser entered the scene, but first I'd like to focus on your assailant for a second. You've already mentioned what he was wearing, his height, his build, his eye colour, and his Caucasian origin. What I want you to focus on now is your impression of him. Was there anything which you might classify as out of the ordinary?" Chantal wasn't following. "Out of the ordinary?" "Anything that you might have noticed... something that caught your attention... it could be anything like a background noise, a particular smell, thoughts that crossed your mind, something in your periphery that made you look somewhere else, or any special reaction that you may have had that didn't seem 'normal' under those circumstances." She stared blankly at him. This was just not computing. What on earth could he mean? "I'm sorry, I'm just not following." He gave her one of his 'make any woman within 100 yards melt' smiles and tried to explain his line of questioning. "I'm simply asking you this to see if you might remember anything else about your assailant. Something that doesn't immediately come to mind when you are asked to describe someone. Something other than physical appearance which might still provide an important clue as to who a person is, or what they do. Even perhaps what motivates them to make such an attack, or why they chose you." Chantal nodded. Yes, this made sense, but she still couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary to say... except.. perhaps... "Well, I'm not sure what to say. All I think of is that he seemed to exude a form of wildness. Like he wasn't quite civilized. He also didn't say a single word. Only grunted, and he let out a cry of pain when I knifed him. I can't say I recall anything else. It's quite a blur, what with the drug that was in me and the fear I was feeling. I'm amazed I've even been able to recall this much." "Alright then. That's fine. Now, let's go onto the subsequent accident. You said you were unconscious." "Yes. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, and this heaviness was pressing down on me. It got dark, and my limbs were heavy, and I just sort of collapsed against the wheel. I faintly remember the crunching sound as my car hit the wall. Then, I moved in and out of consciousness, catching bits of what was happening around me." "What do you remember from those bits?" "I remember feeling fingers taking my pulse. There were also two men's voices, talking to each other. Something about me being a diabetic, and then checking my purse. I blacked out for a bit, but was awakened by one of the men... the one in red - whom I later found out was Constable Fraser - was sniffing me." The two agents didn't react. They had heard this from the two men earlier. Constable Fraser had mentioned how he had smelled her breath, to detect if there was alcohol, or the sweet breath of a hyperglycemic diabetic. Scully had been impressed by this, but hadn't had time to congratulate the constable on his good thinking before detective Vecchio had chimed in, saying she was lucky he hadn't licked her. The two agents had stared at him dumbfounded as he'd gone on to explain. "He has a tendency to do that a lot." Fraser had stayed silent during that last exchange. "Yes, we've heard about that, Miss Kuhn. Is there anything else you remember after that?" "Not really. I blacked out, and the next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room. I had a mother of a headache and felt dizzy. The doctor told me it was due to the drug I'd been injected with and the concussion I'd suffered during the accident. I was released the next day and that's all there is to say. I've told my story dozens of times now. There's nothing else to add. Mulder looked at Scully, who silently assured him she'd written everything down, and with a small nod he turned his attention back to Chantal. "Thank you very much for your patience, Miss Kuhn. We'll let you know if anything develops. In the meantime, you must remember that the suspect is still on the loose, and may try and attack you again. If you feel like you're being followed, or if anything happens, don't hesitate to contact the local police department. If there's anything else you remember, or if you want to reach us, you can call these numbers. He handed her a business card with his cell phone number on it and Scully did the same. "Thank you." Chantal replied, feeling somewhat reassured that these two agents were on the case. "If there's anything else, I'll let you know." She walked them to the front door and bade them good-bye, watching as they got into their car and drove away. *********** "Well, what do you think?" "About her testimony?" Scully inquired. "Yes." "Well, Mulder, it sounds like any of dozen cases of assault with intent to rape. The suspect already has a record of such assaults -" "I know that, I mean do you think she's hiding something from us? Does she know more than she's telling us?" "Mulder! Why do you always assume there's more going on than there is? She's a victim. She didn't ask to be attacked, it just happened!" He paused for a second, pondering her response. "You're right." He paused to think some more, then added. "How about her description of the suspect? What did you think of that?" "In what sense?" "The wildness, the grunting... as if he were some primitive animal. What could that mean?" "I don't find anything too extraordinary about that. Most repeat offenders in cases of assault show tendencies towards aggressiveness. He may have grunted just so that his voice wouldn't be picked up... maybe he has an accent, something that would make him easy to pick out... there could be a dozen reasons." "I supposed that makes sense. But why did she feel the need to describe him as a wild animal? Why insist on there having some 'primitive' feel to him?" Scully's eyes widened as it dawned on her which direction her partner's thoughts were headed. "Mulder! Are you suggesting that the suspect is something other than a man? That this is some form of wild animal? A missing link?" "I must be rubbing off on you, Scully. I couldn't have said it better myself." He chuckled lightly as she stopped, stunned both by his ideas as well as by the way he'd gotten by her riposte so easily. "No, you're not, Mulder. That idea is absolutely ludicrous. First of all, we are dealing with a man. Second of all, when was the last time you saw a wild animal procure themselves *and* deftly use a syringe and drugs?" Mulder's elation was dampened somewhat as his partner's arguments sank in. She was right. While it was tempting to jump onto the 'missing link' theory, there was too much preparation and skill involved. However, unwilling to concede so easily to his partner's arguing (it was just *so* fun to watch her face liven up when she got flustered), he decided to compromise. "You may be right, Scully. However, there's more to this than meets the eye, and I'm determined to get to the bottom of this." Scully smiled. She could feel Mulder's excitement, just like she felt the excitement of the upcoming hunt. It was exhilarating... the creative juices flowing, the adrenaline pumping, the search... It was one of the main reasons she wouldn't want to give up the X-Files if they offered her the post of Director tomorrow morning. Paperwork was dull. The X-Files were *never* dull. Plus, there was the added bonus of having a gorgeous, single partner to work with. There were *definite* advantages there. If only... Dana sighed softly and settled back in her seat as images of what shouldn't be began forming in her mind. For once she was glad Mulder was driving. This way, she had the luxury of thinking up a new fantasy... Great! Another one to add to the long, unfulfilled list she already carried around insider her heart. ********** "Hey, Huey! Can we see your notes on the B case from a couple of weeks ago?" "Which one, Vecchio? I'm a busy cop, unlike yourself..." "Ha! Ha! Very funny... Come on... you know the one I'm talking about. The B that had the prints from the robber in our assault cause." "Why should I give them to you?" "Because I asked so nicely." "In your dreams Vecchio... it's *my* case, and I'm not going to let you and that Mountie anywhere near it." "Wanna bet?" "What do you mean?" "It ain't yours, Huey. Oh, and guess what... it's not mine either." "Do you care to say that in English, Vecchio? If it's not mine, and it's not yours, then whose is it?" "Ours." Detective Huey looked up from his latest case file to see a man's face near his. He moved back, uncomfortable from the closeness... this man had a way of invading personal spaces and making people fidget. Gathering himself, he bristled back at the man... who was obviously tall, thin, and had a pair of penetrating hazel eyes. "And you would be?" "Agent Mulder." The man straightened himself, stepped back, and circled his arm around a petite redhead. A *hot* petite redhead. "And this is my partner, agent Scully. Oh, and in case you hadn't guessed, we're from the FBI, and this case is now under our jurisdiction." Huey gave a crooked smile. Half of it was for the fact that he resented having cases pulled out from under him. However, the other half was because he *knew* how much Vecchio hated Fibbies. It was well worth it to give up the rights to this case, just to see Vecchio squirm. This way, he wouldn't be involved, but would get all the advantages of the spectator. "By all means! Here's the case." He dug into a pile of folders on his desk and quickly pulled out the appropriate one, handing it to the lanky agent. Then he sat back, crossed his hands behind his head, and watched the show unfold. *********** Mulder and Scully retreated to a corner of the room, hunching over the folder, glancing over the crime scene photos, and reading the details of the break-in. There was nothing unusual about it. The family hadn't been home. Someone had snuck to the door of the house, used a crowbar to open the door, had gotten about 5 feet into the house when they must have seen the silent alarm indicator going off. They ran away from the house, and were nowhere to be found when the police arrived on the scene. A forensics team had lifted some prints off the dropped crowbar, and on the door frame. They matched known prints, and a full-scale search of the neighbourhood had revealed nothing. Mulder sighed heavily, and looked towards his partner. "We still don't know anything, Scully. We have no clear description of our suspect, where he might be hiding, or what his next move will be. What are we supposed to do now?" Scully answered his sigh with one of her own. "I don't know Mulder. All we can do is wait. Our suspect obviously has a pattern of repeated crimes, and will strike again. In the meantime, I do *not* want to remain inactive. I say we analyze his points of attack, to see if there might be a discernible pattern. Something to help us predict who his next victim will be." Mulder smiled. His partner's mind was always thinking. Somehow, when one of the two got discouraged, it was always the other one who'd bring them back up, thinking, yearning for the truth, for answers. He wondered how he'd ever worked without her. He didn't want to think of what would happen if he lost her. Inevitably, as with every time his mind went down this road, he remembered when she'd been taken away from him. When he'd found himself alone to face the world, with only his imagination to guide him as to where she might be... what might be happening to her... what *they* would be doing to her... the tests... the pain... He closed his eyes, unable to bear the thought. Feeling again as he had during that time. Desperate, wild, uncaring. He hadn't been able to sleep, and he had lost his appetite. Basic grooming seemed beyond his capability, and he'd let his beard grow. He wouldn't comb his hair, and barely remembered to put on clean shirts. There had been no point to life. In fact, when he thought about it, he'd probably had a death wish at the time. That would have explained Kristen. She had wanted to die, and engaged in activities to get her wish. Blood sports, unprotected sex, meeting strange men in dark, isolated areas. He'd found her carelessness, her quiet desperation, fascinating. So much mirroring his own. It had been so easy to lose himself for a few hours... to forget about everything happening in his life. To blot out the pain of missing Scully. All for a short moment of carnal pleasure. Meaningless. Dangerous. Deadly. And then she'd left too. Killing herself. He still wasn't sure why, and he preferred not to try and figure it out. There were too many variables. Had she at least found the solace she so desperately needed? He'd gone back home. Still desperate. Still missing Scully so much it hurt to breathe. Torn between the idea of letting her go and clinging fiercely to the hope that she would return. Once, a long time ago, he'd worked alone. Used to the solitude. Craved it. Wanting to be accepted, but understanding that it wouldn't happen. He'd work alone, in the shadows, seeking out the truth that most people couldn't even begin to fathom. Those who relished calling him Spooky... they didn't understand. They probably feared him. He hadn't cared. He could take them all! And then it had all changed, in a single afternoon, after a short knock on his door. She'd walked into his life and changed everything. So why hadn't he told her how much he loved her when she'd come back to him? Why had he given her that goofy gift? The one he'd found at the corner store as he raced over to the hospital. Superstars of the Super bowl. Yup. Just what every woman needs. "I knew there was a reason to live." Oh, how that phrase had washed over him. So unexpected, yet so meaningful. Lifting a weight off his shoulders he hadn't even been aware he'd been carrying. Telling him, between the lines, how important he was to her. He'd been sure of it. He was still sure of it now. And when he'd given her back the cross... it had been magical. The final sign that all was going to be fine. Mulder smiled to himself. *Fine*. That's her word. The one she always uses, even when she isn't fine. The word that says 'If I wanted to tell you something's wrong, I would. She was so strong. Despite her hardships. Despite losing her family, having been kidnapped and near death countless times, she was strong. Stubborn. Oh, *definitely* stubborn. But kind. She always forgave his mistakes. The countless times he'd run away, 'ditched' her for something more important. The Arctic and that pilot, that train with the alien hybrid. Countless times. He felt ashamed remembering how many times there had been. **It has to stop,** he told himself. **I won't do that anymore.** And finally, as always, when the turmoil of emotions gripped him, he felt the most important thing of all. Love. He wondered when he'd first fallen in love with her. It was hard to pinpoint a time. Had it been the first time he'd seen her? The first time she'd risked her life for him? That conversation in the car? One of the countless times he'd woken up in the hospital to see her face smiling down at him? It didn't matter. All that *really* mattered was that he knew how he felt about her. And one day... when the situation improved... when they brought down Cancerman... *Then*! Then they'd be able to do more than just say it. They'd hold each other and never let go. He'd press his lips to hers, and let himself drown in the tidal wave... "Are you hearing any of this, Mulder? Mulder? Mulder.... MULDER!" He jumped. Her voice cut through his musings. Obviously she'd been talking to him, but he hadn't heard a word she'd said. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?" "Mulder are you alright? You zoned out for a minute. Are you sick?" Scully reached out to touch his forehead, fearing he might have a fever. She hadn't seen him act like this very often, and it usually meant he was sick. He flinched at her touch, but didn't back away. She felt her own brow furrow from worry as she checked his temperature. He seemed fine. He didn't have a fever, but his pulse was rather rapid. And why had he been staring at her so intently while she'd talked to him earlier? He hadn't heard a word she'd said. Of that she was sure. What was going on? Slowly, she withdrew her hand from his forehead. "No. No fever. How are you feeling?" "I'm fine Scully." She smiled at that. How often had she used that line on him? Well, even if he weren't fine, she knew she should respect his decision and not pry. "Okay then, Mulder. Now, what do you think about my idea?" He grinned sheepishly. Obviously he hadn't heard anything she'd said in the last two minutes. Sighing softly, she repeated what she'd had to say. "I think that we should search the databanks for any crimes committed by our suspect in the last two years. Something that might indicate his style. Now, I'll take care of mapping the geographical location of his attacks, and you take care of the chronology of the attacks. Hopefully, we'll be able to come up with some sort of pattern that will allow us to narrow down the area of the next attack. If we're lucky, we might even be able to predict his next victim. What do you think?" He gave her his warmest smile. "I think great minds think alike, Scully. Why don't you look up those records, and when you find them, I'll come along and help you sort them out. Okay?" She grabbed him by the lapels as he tried to turn away. "Just one second. Where do you think you're going?" "Uh... well... I was hoping to go take a walk to clear my head." "And leave me here to do all the archive work? I don't think so. Come on, Mulder. You take 1994-1995, and I'll take 1995-1996." He groaned, but followed her to the records room. "Scully, I'll hold you personally responsible if I make a mess on the floor. You *know* these things make me seasick. And me without my Dramamine." He gave her his best pout and she barely suppressed a smile. Yes, he was feeling better. Whatever had crossed his mind earlier was now buried somewhere deep in his psyche, and he was back on track. Now, if only she could figure out what was bothering him... Well, she might be able to. Once they'd solved the case, and shoveled away the tons of paperwork afterwards. What was it she'd said about the X-Files being fun and less paperwork? *********** "Okay, this is what I've got... All the attacks have taken place on the south side. They're clustered in this region, and only occasionally has he moved outside this territory. I think our best bet is to increase the patrols in this region." "I agree, Scully. I've also found out that the crimes are clustered in groups of four. We've seen two so far... Miss Kuhn's attack and the breaking and entering. We have two to go for now. Otherwise, we may have to wait six months before he strikes again." "Well, that should leave us with some leverage, Mulder. Have you observed anything about the order of the crimes?" "No. Unfortunately, Scully, while the criminal is quite regular about his timing, his types of crimes are random. I sifted through them for an hour, and couldn't find any pattern. No order I could detect." "Well, Mulder, maybe you didn't look hard enough." He stopped and stared at her, startled by her last statement. "Really?" "Yes." She tried not to look smug. She *really* tried, but in the end a smile began to edge its way onto her face. He was looking at her with a different look. Definitely respect. He was the profiler, the one who got into criminal's minds. She was the pathologist. It wasn't that she wasn't intelligent, but it wasn't her habit to do this. His esteem for her had just increased yet again. "Well, don't just leave me in suspense, Scully. Do tell!" She smiled warmly. She'd been afraid he'd have felt jealousy. After all, *he* was the one who almost always intuited what the criminal would do next. He was the one with the nickname. "I did find a pattern. The difference is that it's not one of repetition, but rather lack thereof..." "I'm listening." "I've noted that for each crime spree, of the four crimes, none was ever repeated. Only one assault, one breaking and entering, one robbery, one store theft, or one of whatever other crime he's committed. In this spree, we've had one assault and one breaking and entering, so I hypothesize that we don't have to worry about these types of crimes in the near future." Mulder nodded slowly. "I agree. So, any suggestions on what the next crime might be?" "Well, no, but I do have a feeling it might be a crime in a business, so we should keep more patrols on the two or three streets which have a high business ratio." "A *feeling*, Scully?" "An educated guess, Mulder." He leaned in towards her ear, lowered his tone, and smiled as he spoke. "Sure, Scully." He left her there, still shivering from the effects of his low, sultry tone as he walked out of the archives and back to the bullpen. ************** "You expect me to suddenly dispatch half the force to patrol less than a dozen streets?" "That would be right, sir." "Did the Mountie put you up to this, Vecchio?" "Uh, no sir." "Then who?" Ray tried not to fidget in front of his superior, Lieutenant Welsh. This man had a way of speaking to his detectives as if they were only two inches tall, and Vecchio was not immune to it. "It's the FBI agents sir. They have a suspicion that the next attempt will be on one of the commercial streets on the south side, and they requested our help by increasing patrols." "Oh. Well, that puts a whole different spin on things. Alright... I'll allow four extra cars to patrol the area, but no more." "But sir, they asked for at least a dozen..." "I said *four* cars, Vecchio. And if you're still in my office in five seconds, it's going down to three." "I'm a breeze, sir..." ************ Three pairs of eyes looked up to see Vecchio rush out of his supervisor's office. He walked towards his desk, where his Canadian friend and the two FBI agents were waiting for him. Mulder was the first to speak. "Well?" "Lieutenant Welsh was unable to secure as many cars as you asked, but he was able to promise four extra cars to patrol the area." Mulder's anger flared. There was a dangerous criminal on the loose, and he had expected full cooperation. He started to take a step towards the Lieutenant's office, intent on letting him know just what he thought of the decision when he was stopped by a hand reaching for his arm. He turned back to see Scully restraining him. He was about to comment when he was interrupted by another voice. "I'm sure that we can find a respectable addendum to the local police force's help. I'm willing to help in any way I can, and I could speak to my superior. As a sign of goodwill, I'm certain she could spare a few of our men to help in the stakeout." "That's very generous of you, Constable Fraser," Scully said, giving him a grateful smile. She looked at Mulder and gave him a stern look, making sure he reacted in a similar manner. "Yes, I must agree with my partner. Any help we can get in stalking and arresting this criminal will be greatly appreciated," Mulder added, doing his best to get his mind back on the case. "You don't have to thank me. It's only natural. After all, we're all sworn to defend citizens." ************ Scully got off the phone, after having ascertained that the local Bureau office would supply six sets of partners to help the stakeout. She got back to Vecchio's desk, where the three men were finishing up working on a patrol route. "Now that we've agreed on the route to take, I suggest we retreat for the evening, to prepare for tomorrow," Mulder instructed, eyeing the two men next to him and his approaching partner, "and meet here tomorrow at 8 am. This will give us a chance to rest, and prepare. Tomorrow morning, we'll brief the patrolmen and every agent and detective who will be assisting with the patrol." He hesitated for a second before continuing. "I assume that you understand that we are not to wear our regular uniforms. We will be undercover, so we need to look as inconspicuous as possible. So wear regular clothes." Mulder looked at Fraser, inspecting his red serge uniform. In the two days he'd been here, the man had never once worn anything else, and he wondered if he *owned* anything else. Fraser noticed the inspection, and cleared his throat. "That will be no problem, agent Mulder. I assume jeans and a shirt are sufficiently common clothes?" Fraser noted Mulder's acquiescing nod and extended to shake his hand, gave Scully a quick nod, adding a low "Ma'am", and then patted Ray on the shoulder as a good-bye before turning away and walking off. Ray settled into his chair and looked up at the agents, who gathered their things and left after a few minutes, giving a quick good-bye. ************ The knock on the door startled Scully. She'd just settled into her room for the evening, switching her laptop on to write up her evening addendum to her field journal, and had been contemplating going to the hotel bar and ordering a nice soothing cup of herbal tea when the knock had come. "Who is it?" "Michael Crichton." She smiled as she moved to open the door. "You know, Mulder, you're going to have to come up with something a little more original... First Steven Speilberg, now this? If you'd at least said you were some sexy Hollywood star, I *might* have opened the door more enthusiastically." He gave her a silly grin. "You mean you *didn't* think I was the world-famous author?" "No, I thought you were the world famous pain in the 'you-know-what' partner of mine coming to disturb me. Guess I wasn't wrong." "Awwww Scully. That hurts. And to think I was going to invite you to go out and run with me." "So now you're not?" "Depends. Would you say yes?" "You won't know until you ask me." "Okay. I'm asking. Do you want to go for a run? I thought it might be a good thing to go by the commercial district one more time before we make the final revisions on our surveillance plan later tonight." She surprised them both by saying yes. She left him to turn off her computer and find himself somewhere to sit while she grabbed a pair of jogging pants and shoes, and a sweatshirt, and headed off to the bathroom to change. He was sitting in a big stuffed chair when she came back into the main room. "Ready?" He asked, and he got up out of the chair when she nodded. They headed out the door and walked down to the sidewalk near the motel, where they stopped and did a few basic stretches before heading off towards the direction of the commercial district. He let her set the pace, unsure of just how fast she could run. She picked a good pace, easy for him to follow, and not to fast so that she'd run out of steam early. It felt good to be running next to him. Their feet pounding the pavement in a complementary pattern, just like the way they complemented each other so well at work. Their breathing coming just fast enough to prevent easy conversation, allowing them to enjoy each other's company without the need for words. They ran this way for seven blocks until they reached the commercial district, where Mulder slowed down and signaled for her to follow suit. They came to a stop at the corner of the street, and she looked up to his face, curious to know why he'd made them stop. He pointed down a street, and between rapid breaths, indicated he thought they should start in that direction, and then weave their way back through the parallel streets, in order to cover all the territory and get a final 'feel' for the area. She nodded her agreement and followed him as he started up again, choosing a slower pace to enable them ample time to observe the neighbourhood, notice alleys, hiding spaces, areas where attacks could easily take place, businesses that were more at risk, and so on. Twenty minutes later, they had covered the area and were ready to go back to the motel. Scully turned to move towards the home stretch when she suddenly felt Mulder's hand on her arm, pulling her in another direction. She looked at him quizzically, but when his face remained impassive she simply shrugged and went along. They jogged a few blocks when they came across a nice, fairly well-lit park where a few of the city dwellers were enjoying a leisurely autumn stroll. He chose a path and they followed it. A few hundred yards later, the path turned into a wooded area, which was lit here and there with park lamps. They jogged in silence through the trees, and Scully decided to take a second to try and read Mulder's expression, to see what he was thinking. She turned to glance up at his face, which was relaxed but not really registering any easily readable emotion, and at that precise moment she stepped on a root which made her lose her balance and fall forward. Mulder, who heard her gasp as she tripped, moved on instinct and tried to catch her. However, as he leaned his arms out to catch her, he caught his foot in the same root that she had tripped on, and only managed to wrap his arms around her before they both tumbled to the ground, himself on the bottom. She fell heavily on him, and he felt the air rush out of his lungs as her elbow accidentally struck his diaphragm. He took a few seconds to fight for a breath before he looked up to her. *********** "Are you okay?" They simultaneously asked, then answered, "Yes" in the same manner. They both looked at each other and started laughing at the perfect synchronicity of their questions and answers. This situation was just ludicrous. Scully tried to move off Mulder, but his arms were still wrapped around her, so she only managed to press her elbow into his diaphragm again, letting herself drop back down and giving him a contrite look after hearing his sudden release of air. "Mulder, let go of me so I can get up." He didn't respond right away, so she asked again. When he again did not move, she turned her head more fully towards him, about to ask him why he wasn't moving when she suddenly got a good look at his expression. His gaze was intently set on her face, and his eyes were smouldering. She stared back, mesmerized. For endless seconds they simply looked at each other, suddenly aware of how much of each one was touching the other. Unsure what to do, or how to react. Fascinated by the way the other was staring, softly moving against the other with each breath. It was Mulder who moved first, slowly bringing his arm up her back until he'd reached her head, and brushed the hair out of her face to get a clearer view of Scully. He caressed her cheek, and moved his hand back to lace his fingers through her hair. Slowly, ever so slowly, he brought her lips to his and placed a chaste kiss. Unable to lose contact with her, he held her head so that their lips never lost touch. He was still breathing hard and so was she. The breaths coming out of their slightly open mouths mingled, allowing them a slight taste of each other without the need for further contact. It felt so good. It was the first time they'd touched this way since the night he'd come to her apartment in a panic and pressed her up against the wall, unsure of her real identity. It was only the second situation where they'd ever kissed. It wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't a good idea. But at this specific instant, the world could have self-destructed around them and they wouldn't have been aware, as engrossed in each other as they were. It was he who broke the silence. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" "Oh, I have a good idea." She started leaning in towards him when the sound of a wayward owl startled both of them. Suddenly aware that, despite being in the woods, they were still in a public park, they gave each other a quick look, cleared their throats and managed to untangle their limbs. As quietly as possible, they stood up and faced each other, wearing contrite looks on their faces. They both knew that they had decided not to pursue a relationship, despite their feelings for each other, but in times like this it was especially painful to keep their distance. "Uhm..... I guess we'd better get back to the hotel. We've got some last-minute re-checking to make sure our stakeout stays a well-oiled machine." "It's nice to see you so optimistic, Mulder." He just gave her an enigmatic smile and turned towards the way they had just come. "I'll race you back, Scully." "You're on, Mulder, but... hold on a second!" "What?" "Oh, nothing. Wait! What's that?" "What?" As he turned his head, she pushed him down and took off towards the direction of the hotel, running with all her might. It took four blocks before he caught up with her, but when he did, he simply glared at her and moved on. ********** It felt weird, to be walking hand in hand along the sidewalk. Scully's mind couldn't quite compute the implications. Here they were, walking together, holding hands like any normal couple, under the watchful eye of their coworkers, and it was allowed! Why hadn't she thought of doing undercover work before? Mulder, for his part, had a silly grin plastered across his face, as he sneaked looks her way, winking from time to time. Nope. This was too good to be true. He could almost read her mind. Not that it was hard, that contented look on her face was hard to miss. Well, it wasn't that easy to see, but with years of practice at trying to decipher her expressions, it was right there, painted in neon letters across her forehead. She was enjoying this. Maybe even a little too much. For the millionth time that morning he gave her hand a squeeze and winked in her direction before sweeping the area with another glance. They stopped at a storefront, using the reflection on the window to try and see if anything was happening behind them. Within his ear, he heard the FBI agent who was coordinating the operations from the surveillance van ask to get a vocal report, and he responded, leaning in towards Scully to pretend like he was whispering something in her ear. That resulted in a slight involuntary shiver which she did not seem able to suppress, and he chuckled silently at the effect his voice had on her. **Gee, I wonder what would happen if I whispered something good in her ear...** Mulder almost leaned over to do so when he remembered the wire he was wearing. Nope, not a good idea. The last thing they needed was to tell the whole Bureau *and* the Chicago PD what was happening between then. Darn wires. He pouted, but thanked his lucky stars for equipment so small it could be hidden from view. Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted to the last time he'd use this type of equipment and stopped himself... Duane Barry... **Better not go there... at least not right now.** Okay.... how about another type of surveillance equipment? Modell. Better not go there either. Sighing softly, he made a mental effort to keep his mind off of the past and concentrated on the present, and his surroundings. He could not allow himself to be distracted. He turned towards his partner as she gave his hand a squeeze. "Mulder, I think we've got a problem." "What?" "See that shopkeeper over there?" She pointed towards one of the merchants on the opposite side of the street, who was standing at the door of his business. "Yes." "Well, this is the fourth time we pass this street in the last two hours, and he's been staring at us the last two times. Looks like he's getting suspicious. Any suggestions?" "Change of route? For a while?" A voice broke into both their right ears... "Uh... 'fraid not, guys. We can't afford to change routes right now. You'll have to think of something else." "Gotcha, Fred. We'll think of something else," Mulder replied. "Any ideas?" Scully asked him, a hopeful look on her face. "Oh, plenty." "Such as?" "Why don't we move along and I'll fill you in on the next round." "Uh oh, Mulder. Don't look now, but he's trying to cross the street. I think he wants to talk to us." "Great!" *********** Mulder's exasperated tone only lasted a second, and the speed of his change in attitude left Scully speechless as she felt him forcefully push her against the wall and saw him lowering his head to hers. "Mul- Wha-?" That was all she had the time to say before his lips closed over hers. The world disappeared. It went somewhere, but Scully just wasn't mentally apt to guess where at the moment. It was all she could do to stand upright. Thankfully, the wall and Mulder's hands on her waist helped her. Well, that and the fact that he was pressed solidly against her. The passion of his kiss both frightened and excited her. The fear of being watched still was too great for her to feel comfortable, but she was definitely beginning to like this. Oh yes. She could get used to this. It was addictive, that touch of his. A drug she would willingly take every chance she got. Nothing felt more comfortable than to be in his arms. Nothing felt more natural. It was like breathing. **Speaking of which,** her lungs reminded her, **isn't it about time you take a breath?** Scully broke away first, breathing heavily and putting her hands onto Mulder's shoulders. He eased down a bit, wrapping his arms tightly around her, placing his face against her right ear. It felt and looked like a comfortable hug, but as she suddenly glimpsed a view of the street from over his shoulders, she realized he was purposefully giving her a chance to see what was happening. "Well?" He whispered to her, as she felt his warm breath against her ear, ruffling her hair. "Looks like we scared him off, Mulder. He's no longer on the street, and probably went back into his store." "Take a quick look around. Is anything unusual happening?" She craned her neck and did her best to survey the immediate area. "Except for us, no." "Welcome back to planet earth," Fred's voice broke in. "We thought that both of you would pass out from lack of oxygen for a minute. Should I congratulate you on your acting?" "I knew there was a reason why I'd taken all those performing arts classes in college," Mulder cracked wryly, giving a nice performance for the surveillance team, while sneaking a secret wink in Scully's direction. "I must say, you are excellent at taking the lead, Mulder. I didn't have the time to see that one coming." "Was it good for you, agent Scully?" Fred teased. "I don't know, Fred. Tell you what... We'll get Mulder to try his technique on you, and then we can compare notes, okay?" That shut him up. Fast. Scully barely suppressed a giggle as she imagined the shade of red Fred must have turned. Mulder was more successful at controlling his laughter, but the grin on his face said it all. "You know, Scully... I think I'll just take your word for it." "Your loss, Fred." Scully looked at Mulder, amazed at his last answer. Oh, she knew he had a sense of humour, but this was too much. She doubled over in laughter, unable to stop herself. Mulder pulled her into the nearest alley, quieting her for a moment, and then they both burst into a fit of laughter, taking a long moment to get back in control. "Hey, guys... I don't mean to be a spoilsport... but we *are* trying to catch a criminal." That sobered them up fast. "Sorry, Fred," Scully replied, working hard to get into control and to stop the blush that was creeping up her face. "Okay, Scully... ready?" Mulder reached out with his hand, waiting for her to grasp it, and then they exited the alley, moving along their planned route. Two blocks later, they reached the surveillance van and slowed down. Looking all around, they checked to make sure no one was watching before opening the side door and stepping in. "Well, if it isn't the two lovebirds," Fred teased, his smile and the gleam in his eye an added taunt. "Come here, sweetheart," Mulder replied, making a move to pull Fred to him. "Not on your life!" Fred looked genuinely scared for a second, before turning a deep shade of crimson and mumbling something as he moved back to the consoles. ********** The teams were rotating their lunch breaks, and it was Ray and Benny's turn. As they drove towards one of their favourite diners, Ray felt the need to comment on the surveillance. "We're wasting our time, 'Fra-zier'... "Why do you say that, Ray?" "We're sitting ducks... waiting for something to happen. I'm sorry, but every instinct in me says we should be out there... pounding the pavement, asking our contacts. We've got a criminal on the loose. We can't just stand around waiting for something to happen!" "Well, actually, I've done some checking on their backgrounds and agents Mulder and Scully are quite capable. They're both intelligent, dedicated, and their solve rate is one most everyone would like to have. He used to do criminal profiles, and he was renowned for his accuracy. In fact it earned him a nickname." "Oh really? What?" "Well, I don't think it would be appropriate to repeat it. I mean, it's not nice to disseminate such information." "Fraser, if you didn't want me to know you shouldn't have started talking about it." "Well, I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that I believe, from what I learned, that agent Mulder is sensitive about the alias, so I think it's best if we let this go." "Let what go? You didn't even *tell* me!" "Yes, I know. I'm sorry Ray. I'm going to have to take a firm stand on this." "Oh yeah, like you ever take a firm stand on anything, Fraser. Do I have to remind you of the incident about your uniform?" "That's not true. I did take a firm stand at the end of that incident, and if I must remind you, I *was* dismissed." "Oh yeah? Then why are you still working?" "I don't know, Ray. But I'm still wearing my uniform." "Good point." Ray backed off, realizing he wasn't arguing for the right reasons. It was the frustration of the day, not his friend's actions, that were the reason for his bad mood. He felt he should apologize, but he knew that Benton realised what was happening and wasn't taking this personally. He stopped for a second, remembering a conversation they'd had when his Mountie friend had lost his memory on a recent case. When Benny had asked him why they were friends, he'd been hard-pressed to give an answer. There was no easy response for that one. It was just that they seemed to work so well together. They understood each other without saying anything. As he'd once said...'I mean it's one of those special cases where alone we're incomplete but together we're better than we are separately.' It was true. They *did* complement each other. It was a special bond. Something you don't see often. Something that some partners just have. **In fact,** he suddenly thought, **those two FBI partners had the same type of bond.** **Well, okay, not quite the same bond,** he admitted. **There's more to it than that in their case. Yes, they complement each other, and communicate without words just like Benny and me, but there's something more. Something I can't quite put my finger on.** Ray continued in silence, contemplating what could be different about the Fibbies. He had a hard time categorizing it. It wasn't just because they were a man/woman team. Sure, he'd seen some sparks fly between such pairs, but there was something else here... It was almost as if they were... soulmates. *Nah....* He told himself. *That's not it, is it?* However, the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that this was it. It was as if some metaphysical bond had been formed between the two of them, linking them forever. He had a distinct feeling that if one were to die, the other would not survive. Not for long, anyway. Which was too bad, because he thought that Dana Scully was *definitely* a looker. "Hey, Benny... What do you think about those two agents?" "Which ones, Ray? Agents Scully and Mulder?" "Yeah." "Well, I don't know. They seem very professional, rather open-minded - especially him - and they work well together." "Yeah, yeah... but what about *her*? What do you think of her?" "She's quite intelligent, strong-willed, well-trained ---" "But what about her looks? Wouldn't you like to have her for yourself?" The silence in the Riv stretched for a long minute. Ray wasn't quite sure what Benny was thinking about, so he ventured a look in his partner's direction. At the sight, he willed himself not to snicker. Benny was blushing. Oh, only slightly, but enough for him to know that he was thinking about something to do with women. However, he knew his friend well enough to wonder if he was thinking about the lovely agent Scully, or his impetuous supervisor, Meg Thatcher (or as Ray liked to call her, The Dragon Lady). "Penny for your thoughts, Benny." "Huh? Oh, I wasn't thinking of anything important." "Yeah right. Guess that flush I noticed on your face was due to this balmy November weather. Come on, spill! You were thinking about Dana Scully, weren't you?" "Well, yes, Ray. But not in the way you're implying." "She's hot isn't she?" "You could say that, but there would be no point in trying to pursue it." "Why not?" "It would seem to me like she's already spoken for." Ray smiled. So Ben saw it too? Good. He was glad to know that he wasn't the only one. "You mean she's fallen for me, Fraser?" "At the risk of hurting your ego, no she hasn't, Ray. Haven't you seen the way she looks at her partner? I think no other man alive stands the chance of ever winning her heart." Ray sighed. "It's too bad." He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he heard Benny sighing too. But when he turned to look at his friend, the Mountie had regained his composure and was unreadable. ********** "You know, Mulder, I think we should have planned our surveillance better. Don't you think that a nice cushy car for a stakeout would have been better than this? My feet are starting to hurt." Mulder winked in her direction. "Nag, nag, nag." He cringed slightly, expecting a physical blow, but instead getting her 'Oh, you're going to regret that' look. Changing tack, he looked around quickly and formulated a plan. "Hey, Scully. Tell you what. Why don't we stop at the terrace on that corner. We're ahead of our schedule as far as walking around is concerned, and I'll buy you a cappuccino. It'll be just like that annoying TV show." She laughed. "Okay, but I insist on paying for the coffees. After all, you're probably the one who's suffering the most. You must feel sore after falling while jogging last night." He gave her a look to show he hadn't forgotten about that, and his eyes held a hint of a promise. One she wasn't glad to see. She knew she'd have to pay for pushing him down at one point or another. She just hoped it would be sooner or later, because the stress of waiting for something to happen wouldn't be very good for her health. "Aww... Isn't that sweet," Mulder said in honeyed tones, " I'm glad you're so worried about my health." He grasped her arm tighter and practically dragged her forward as he picked up the pace towards the cafe, knowing she'd have a hard time following. A few minutes later they were seated at a table, surveying the neighbourhood and sipping their hot drinks. Mulder sweeped the immediate area and, content that no one was paying attention to them, he began to lightly kick Scully's feet, stopping once in a while to wrap his foot around her ankle. Looking up to his partner's face, he winked. Scully stared at him, wide-eyed. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement. Mulder was playing *footsies*?????? In public??????? She wasn't sure which of the two behaviours was surprising her the most, but she was flabbergasted. "Mulder..." She tried to warn him. He just ignored her, moving his foot up to her calf muscle, slowly dragging it up and down the back of her leg, soothing the soreness there. She wanted to stop him, she knew it was inappropriate behaviour, especially on duty, but she just couldn't get herself to mouth the words to make him stop. It turned out that he stopped on his own, and just as Scully was taking a deep breath, thankful for the interruption of physical contact, he leaned in and asked her if her feet were still sore. "Why, Mulder?" "Well, we wouldn't want you having to walk all this distance with sore feet. I'll tell you what... take off your shoes, that should help relieve some of the pain." She thought that was a good idea, so she unlaced her shoes and quickly slipped them off. It did help, and she gave a sigh of contentment, which turned into a yelp of surprise as he reached for her right foot and brought it up into his lap. He smiled and looked straight into her eyes as he began to massage her foot. Magic. There was no other word to describe what she felt as his strong, agile fingers began to knead and stroke, working out the tension and the pain of the long walk. He found all the sore areas, soothing and relaxing them, somehow managing to skim over her ticklish spots so quickly she didn't have time to react. She felt the tension in her body begin to dissipate, and a slow buzz began in her head as she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. So far, she had managed to hold back from moaning her approval at the movements of his hands, but it was getting harder to do. To try and counter this, she concentrated on her respiration. After all, people were listening in on them. In. Out. In. Out. She took long, soothing breaths, counting slowly as she inhaled and exhaled. *That's it, Dana. Don't think about those hands... concentrate on your breathing... your foot is not attached to your body... you're not feeling the sparks of electricity shooting out from his contact... they're not pooling in your stomach... you're not feeling the tension in your abdomen... there isn't any heat building... breathe... breathe...* She opened her eyes as she realized how her thoughts had gone dangerously close to somewhere she didn't want to go. Unconsciously she flicked her eyes up to her partner's. Well, that was a mistake. She forgot to breathe. His eyes had gone dark. The intensity of his gaze was hypnotic as it bore into hers, communicating every feeling, every desire. It was a look that said he'd like to just take her right now, on the table, with everyone watching. She closed her eyes with an effort, suddenly aware that she was trembling. Why was he doing this to her? Why was she doing this to herself? They'd come to a mutual agreement that despite their love for one another, they wouldn't act on it. Not in the near future, anyway. Dana knew she had to stop her partner right now, before things got out of control. Not to mention that they were on duty! She tried to pull her foot away, but he held onto it. However, his strokes changed -- got lighter, less intense -- and after a few moments she decided to hazard a look at her partner. His eyes weren't on her anymore. He was scanning the area as he gently continued to massage her foot, spreading out the toes and gently stretching them. Finally, he let go of her foot, and she limply let her leg fall back to the ground. She didn't resist when he lifted her other foot. He began to stroke it as well, but not with the intensity he'd used before. This touch was gentler, more distant. Dana sighed in relief as she realized that he understood her dilemma. After a few minutes he released that foot as well, and simply watched her as she continued to rest limply on her chair. "You look tired." His words startled her. They hadn't talked for so long now that she'd grown accustomed to the silence. "I guess I am, a little. When does the next shift come in?" Mulder looked at his watch. "In an hour. Then we'll be free to go and have supper, then rest. Of course, if nothing happens today, you know we're going to have to do this again tomorrow." "Yes, I know Mulder. I hope something happens soon, though. I'm not sure I could stand the monotony of walking the same beat this way for days on end." "Well, that's not likely to happen. Lieutenant Welsh didn't seem too pleased to lend us some of his manpower, so I'd say we've got three days at most before he loses his patience." "Three days? Do you think our suspect will attack before then?" "I can't be one hundred percent sure, Scully, but I have a feeling he's around. It shouldn't be too long. But chances are it won't happen today. I'd say there's a better chance of something happening tomorrow. We've got the early shift, before the businesses open. Ten to one that's when something is going to happen." Scully nodded slowly, straightening herself in her chair. The tension was returning. The anticipation. The hunt. Her instincts and senses were sharpening again after her temporary rest. She signaled to the waiter, who quickly walked over to their table, and asked for the check. ********** The debriefing at the end of the day was rather uneventful. Of course, no one had seen anything out of the ordinary, and other than a couple of shoplifters who had been caught, there was nothing else to report. By mutual agreement, all parties went their separate ways. They would meet again at 4 am. The 12 hour night shift had started at 5 pm, and they would relieve them the next morning. ********* " 'night Scully." " 'night Mulder." She reached to unlock the door to her hotel room, but stopped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. Turning to look at him, she saw him bend down towards her. Reaching out with her hand, she pushed against his chest, keeping him at a distance. "Mulder, what do you think you're doing?" "Kissing you good night." "I realized that. What happened to our agreement? The promise we'd made not to pursue anything for the moment?" "But Scully, we've broken that agreement twice in less than 24 hours..." Dana sighed. This wasn't easy for her, but she was going to have to be the one to enforce the rules. "I know, Mulder, and that shouldn't have happened. We've got to try and keep this promise. We agreed it would be best for everyone. A situation this complicated shouldn't happen right now." "Awwww... Come one Scully... just *one* harmless good-night kiss? Please?" Scully stared at him, trying to explain her fear with her eyes, but when he seemed to ignore her silent pleading, she simply sighed and bowed her head. "Okay Mulder, but make it quick." "Oh, Scully, I can't do that. I always take my time." Scully felt her breath quicken at the implication in his words. This was going to be a hard refusal. Thinking 'cold' thoughts she nodded, deciding to stay impassive as he leaned in for the kiss. *It's winter, I'm freezing, it's snowing outside... I'm in the Arctic circle... Yeah, cold like it was in Icy Cape.* She stopped at that thought, thinking of the dangerous implications. Thinking about the electricity of his hands on her back as he checked her for contamination. It was at that precise instant that his lips made contact with hers, and she was lost. His kiss was chaste, very light, not containing anything but promises for the future, which is why she surprised herself when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him forcefully to her. Using every ounce of strength she possessed, she turned them around, pushing him into the wall. He still seemed too shocked to respond, so she took that chance to slide her hands up and down the sides of his torso, feeling his muscles shudder with the contact. Dana couldn't believe it. Her blood pressure and temperature had shot through the roof. She wanted him. Wanted him *now*. There would be no waiting. If she didn't have him tonight, she'd go insane. It was she who was surprised when he finally began to move and pushed her away gently. His eyes had gone dark with desire, but he obviously wanted to say something. "Um... Do you realize we're still in the hall?" Dana looked at her surroundings. She turned a deep crimson as she thought of the fact that anyone could have walked by and seen them. That's assuming no one had already. And to think they were always so paranoid about someone watching them. Had she lost *all* her sanity? "And besides," his voiced had lowered an octave and taken on that gravely quality she loved, "I promised you to take it slow." Her knees gave way. She started to collapse, and caught herself just in time before she fell to the floor. In reality, it was his eyes that saved her. They seemed to pull her in, give her the strength to stay standing. He started moving along the wall, edging towards her door, Dana in tow as he took her hand and tugged. He pulled her into her room and kicked the door shut, backing her into it. "Now, where were we?" "Right about here..." She replied as she pulled him into her arms again. "Oh yeah... that's it." He smiled down at her as he oh-so-slowly lowered his head to hers. He was driving her insane. The speed of his descent made her think she was watching a scene in slow motion, and she desperately wanted to hit the fast forward button. She stretched her neck, trying to get as close to his open mouth as possible, needing his contact. Wanting it more than she wanted to take her next breath. She reached out with her tongue, thinking she just might be able to touch him. It worked. They finally made contact. He let his tongue touch hers, feeling the jolt of electricity crossing through his body from the contact. With a rush of energy, he suddenly bridged the gap between their lips and ravished her with a deep kiss. Mulder broke away, taking in a deep breath, and moved back from her, once again pulling her along as he headed for the bed. They sat down facing each other, suddenly unsure what to do or say. This was all so new. His eyes found hers, questioning her, wanting to know if this was too much, too fast. Her responding hungry look told him all he needed to know. She wanted this as much as he did. The intensity of her gaze made his insides twist around uncomfortably. She was so strong, so self-assured. Was he up to the challenge? **Could you back away now if you wanted to?** He asked himself, and the answer was immediate. **No.** Besides, he didn't want to. They began kissing passionately, unable to control themselves. They fell back on the bed, craving for contact. It was only a matter of minutes before they had taken off their clothes and were making love. Time lost its meaning as they thought only of each other, and at the very end, when passion was at its highest, Mulder leaned down and whispered into Scully's ear. "You're the only one I trust. I wouldn't act this way with anyone else." Wrapped in each other's arms, they finally felt their heartbeats return to normal. Mulder turned to his side, his partner following. With their arms wrapped around each other they relaxed. Scully moved to look at him and opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her with a finger against her lips. "No more talking tonight. I just want to hold you. Please, let me." She looked into his eyes for a long time, as if searching for some kind of answer, then simply nodded and moved back into his arms. She fell asleep almost instantly. Mulder held her tightly and closed his eyes. As he was drifting off he remembered he had to set the alarm. Reluctantly pulling away from his sleeping partner, he set the travel alarm and turned back to wrap his arms around her again. She sighed contentedly in her sleep and burrowed her head against his chest. They slept well that night, with no dreams. ********** Dana heard the alarm go off and went to stretch her arm out to stop it. She was surprised when she couldn't move it. As her sleep-fogged brain started to function again she realized that her arms were crossed against her chest and another pair of arms was encircling her. "Mulder." No response. "Mulder, the alarm's ringing. We have to get up." He groaned in his sleep, unwilling to wake up. She pushed her arms against him, forcing him to move over. Finally his eyes opened, and he let go of her, stretching languidly. He reached over and turned off the alarm, then wound his arms back around her. "It's about time!" "Good morning to you too, Scully." "Well, considering that it's 3 am, I don't think you can technically call this morning." "Fine, if you're going to split hairs, good night." He laughed softly and she could feel his chest rise and fall. She kissed him lightly on the neck. "Now, are you going to release your death grip on me so I can go and shower?" "Maybe, if you say the password." "Spooky?" He laughed. "No. Try again." "Trust no one?" He became very serious as he looked into her face. "I meant what I told you before. I trust you. Implicitly. I've never trusted anyone this much. Only you." Tears sprang to her eyes at his words and she managed to move her arms so she could hug him. They held each other for a moment before she moved away. She was shocked to see tears in his eyes as well. She looked at him questioningly and waited patiently for an explanation when she saw he was trying to speak. "This... This can't affect us. It's too important to me. They can't find out. I won't let them split us up. I won't let them try to drive a wedge between us. I won't let anything happen to you again. I --" It was her turn to silence him with her fingers. "I know. This is important to me too. But listen to me. No matter what you say you can't protect me all the time. First of all, I'd be offended if you tried. I'm capable, I'm my own person, and I've got as much training as you do. Second of all, you can't be everywhere all the time. When we're investigating or on our own personal time, we will be separated, and I don't want you to feel responsible for what happens to me. Finally, things happen. Accidents happen. You can't help them. All you can do is *hope* they don't happen. And you have to live for the moment. Take every ounce of love and happiness you can while you have a chance. I know this. You know this. We learned it the hard way." Mulder looked at her, amazed by her strength and resolve. He loved her even more if this was possible. He held her close, understanding what she meant and showing her he did by this contact. "What about this? Us? We said that we wouldn't take this direction. Now that we've done this, can we go back to the way before? Do you want to?" "I don't know, Mulder. I want to keep this, but I know it's dangerous. Not just emotionally but physically too. We know what the consortium can do. Can you imagine what they'd do if they found out about us?" "What if they have already?" "That's something we'll deal with if we need to. But I know that if they don't, we can't let them find out. Which is why..." He continued to look at her as she faltered, seemingly unsure of what to say. "What? What is it, Scully?" "Which is why we can't do this again. At least not soon." Mulder backed away, as if he'd been struck. "Why?" "Don't take this the wrong way, Mulder. I don't want this to happen any more than you do, but you saw how we reacted last night. Just one kiss and we were out of control, careless. We might make a mistake, do something stupid, and we'd be found out. Even though the Bureau doesn't have any rules about having a relationship, the Consortium can still make our lives more difficult. They can try to separate us. They can take one of us. They can..." She faltered, unable to utter the next few words. "They can kill one of us, or both of us. I know I wouldn't be able to stand that either. Which is why this can't continue. Not right now. I need you to understand this. Don't pull away from me. Don't turn cold. Just tell me you understand and hold me a few minutes, because when we leave this room there'll be no turning back." He edged his way back to her, his eyes the image of a tortured soul. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. They pulled each other close, as if they wanted to bury themselves into the other. This was not an easy decision to make. Mulder knew she was right. It didn't make it any easier. He had to try and help her. He could feel her pain. "I'm not angry at you, Scully. I'm angry at the situation. I don't want this to change our lives, but you're right. It has. I'm willing to wait. I don't know how I'll do it, but we'll beat them. We'll beat them somehow and we'll finally be able to love each other without having to look over our shoulders." He held her even tighter, feeling her tears fall onto his arm. "There's only one thing I need to know." "She lifted her head and looked into his eyes." "Can I kiss you again if the shopkeeper tries to talk to us today?" Scully laughed. She couldn't help herself. The situation was so bizarre. She lowered her head to Mulder's neck and deposited one last kiss before extricating herself from his arms and the covers. As she stood up she looked at him longingly one last time before heading to the bathroom. "Want me to join you in the shower?" "Mul-der!" He gave her his best puppy dog look. "Don't tell me you don't want me to join you. I know you'd be lying." She sighed. He knew he was tempting her. Why did she have the be the one to enforce the rule she was so angry at having to follow anyway? "Mulder, don't do this to me. Besides, it's 3:15 am. We only have forty five minutes to get ready and make it to the police station! Tell you what, I'll race you as to who can take the shortest shower. The first one to finish can run to the other's room and turn off the hot water." "You're on!" He took off for his room through the connecting door, and she heard his bathroom door bang shut. Dana laughed as she entered her own bathroom and locked the door. ********** The atmosphere in the briefing room wasn't very congenial. The agents weren't happy at having spent the whole day yesterday waiting for a criminal that didn't strike. They were restless, wishing this would be over with. After the final instructions, the pairs of agents and policemen went on their way. Mulder approached the two policemen they'd originally worked with. "Detective Vecchio, constable Fraser, I see we'll be placed near each other." Ray tried his best to smile. Being stuck near Fibbies for ten hours wasn't exactly his idea of a fun day. "Well, I guess I'll see you out there, agent Mulder." They headed out of the room for their respective cars. The surveillance was different than that of the day before, at least until shop opening hours. It would be very suspicious if that many people were walking on the street at five in the morning. ********** It was 6:30 am and the sun was just starting to rise. Mulder opened the car door and, balancing the tray of coffees and crullers. "Mmmmmm... Smells good!" "Thought you might need a pick-me-up." He smiled, handing her a steaming cup of freshly brewed Mocha Java. She wrapped her hands around it, feeling the warmth seeping into her cold hands. The weather was nice by day, but after dark (**Or before morning,** she told herself) the air got quite chilly. Dana felt the need to make conversation, feeling a little uncomfortable sitting next to the man she'd made love to only a few hours ago. Her expression darkened as she once again cursed the Consortium for preventing them from having a normal life. "Penny for your thoughts," Mulder broke into her musings. "Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if the criminal will strike today." "Well, I certainly hope so. I do know that if he doesn't strike today, we'll be having a hard time rounding up enough manpower to have a third day of surveillance." "How sure we you of the profile?" "Well, no one can be absolutely sure of something like that, but I'm as reasonably sure as I can be. He should strike within the next few day--" Mulder never got to finish that word, or his sentence because an alarm suddenly sounded. "Speak of the devil, Scully. Let's go!" They ran out of the car, food forgotten for now, and headed towards the car with the two policemen. "Vecchio, Fraser, come on!" The two men were on their way out, Ray explaining that he had taken a few seconds to radio for back-up. All four ran towards the direction of the alarm. It seemed rather near. Half a block later, they came near a store whose front window had been smashed in. Slowing down, they approached with caution. Mulder signaled for Vecchio and Fraser to circle around the back while he and Scully would examine the front. They crouched down and moved to the front of the store, staying low so they would not be visible from the inside of the store. Mulder hazarded a look, raising his head only slightly. He lowered himself almost immediately. "I saw some movement inside," he whispered to Scully. They looked at each other, trying to decide whether to wait for the criminal to exit or whether they should go in. They were spared from having to make the final decision when they heard a gunshot and a man screaming. Not hesitating, they both got up and ran for the back of the store, stopping at the edge of the wall. Scully carefully looked around the corner to see what was happening before she jumped out, in fighting stance, gun aimed and ready. "Whoa! Whoa! It's okay, agent Scully. We're alright." It was detective Vecchio speaking. He was crouching over a man, who was unconscious and bleeding profusely from a bullet wound. "He came out the back and tried to jump us, but I shot him before he got the chance. Benny went inside to check to see if there were any others. You might want to go check on him while I call for an ambulance." "It's alright, Ray. I'm back," Fraser said as he walked out of the store. "There was no one else inside. I checked. This man was obviously working alone. Is he the suspect we were looking for?" Mulder stared down at the injured man, taking a good look at his face. "Well, it's hard to say, considering that our best description is the colour of his eyes and his are closed, but it seems like the build, height, and weight are right." Scully didn't waste any time looking at the suspect, but bent down over him, administering first aid while they waited for the emergency medical team to arrive. It didn't take long before they heard the sirens approaching. The technicians drove up to the back of the store through the alley and stopped next to them. It took a few minutes for them to ascertain the criminal's condition, strap him onto the gurney, and load him up in the vehicle before they took off towards the nearest hospital, with a police escort. "Well, looks like a wrap, boys. What say we go on over to the station and fill out the necessary paperwork?" "Good idea, Vecchio. But remember, this is our case, so we're the one who have to fill in the paperwork." Ray smiled. "I know. I just couldn't help rubbing it in." He turned around just in time to miss Mulder's glare. If looks could kill... ********** "I just called the hospital. They said the suspect is in stable condition, and he was moved out of ICU a few hours ago. He regained consciousness once, though he didn't say anything. He only grunted a couple of times, then passed out again." "Sounds like our man, Scully." He'd smiled at her as she'd walked through the door to their temporary office at the Chicago FBI offices. "I've taken the opportunity to begin the paperwork on this case. I imagine that Skinner will be happy about a normal resolution for once." "I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you." "Why, Scully?" "There's still the matter of the fingers growing back. Did you noticed that our suspect had his ten fingers? He was fingerprinted upon arrival at the hospital, and the prints matched the ones that were found in the various crime scenes *as well* as those found on the fingers Vecchio and Fraser retrieved." "Hmmm... curioser and curioser." "I've had a series of lab tests done on him, including some cultures. If this man is able to grow back fingers -- not that I believe that he did, but that remains to be proven -- then there's got to be an observable genetic, macromolecular, and microscopic phenomenon." "Oooooo I love it when you talk dirty." ********** Chantal reached for the ringing phone as she finished cutting some vegetables for a casserole. "Hello?" "Miss Kuhn, this is agent Mulder." She froze, unsure how to respond. "Yes?" "I'm just calling to tell you that we've apprehended a suspect who fits the description you've given us, and we'd like it if you would come down to identify him." She felt herself begin to tremble. Could it be possible that this ordeal might finally be over? "When?" "Well, not right away. Our suspect is still in the hospital, but he should be released tomorrow, so we'll call you as soon as it's possible for you to come downtown and identify him. Alright?" "Yes. Thank you." She dropped the phone back in its place and sank to the floor in relief. It was over. It was finally over, she repeated to herself as she hugged her knees and rocked back and forth. She could go on with her life. Tomorrow. ********** Mulder and Scully walked down the corridor towards their rooms, tired after a very long day's work. They were both looking forward to a hot shower and a good night's sleep. As they reached Scully's door she turned towards him. " 'night Mulder." " 'night Scully." They both tried to not let their minds remember the last time they'd been in this situation. Standinging there, looking in each other's eyes, they both seemed to come to the same conclusion. It wouldn't happen tonight. Sighing, Mulder reached out and cupped her chin, rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. "Sweet dreams," he said, as she leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek and moved on to his own room. Dana waited until he'd reached his room and had looked back at her, smiling, before she opened her own door. Closing it, she leaned back against it, suddenly feeling weak. She took a deep breath and sighed as she released it. Their friendship had survived. They would make it. And someday, hopefully soon, they would be able to be together. Permanently. ********** Chantal was escorted to the dark room with the one-sided mirror by detective Vecchio. When she stepped inside she recognized the other three people who had helped her. Agents Mulder and Scully were near the mirror while constable Fraser was more to the side. It was agent Scully who approached her, a concerned expression on her face. "Now, I just want to remind you that this is a one-sided mirror. You'll be able to see them, but they won't be able to see you or hear you. There will be four men walking in, one of them is the suspect. Take your time, look at the line-up, and when you feel ready, tell us if you recognize the man who attacked you. Is that clear?" "Yes." Chantal tried to sound convincing when she answer, but she didn't quite manage as a small waver could be heard, even with just that one syllable. She heard Vecchio's voice as he ordered for the men to enter the room, and, in a daze, forced herself to look at the lighted room on the other side of the glass partition. The men walked in slowly, single file. She didn't even have to wait for them to turn and face the mirror. He was there. She'd recognized him right away. As he turned Chantal tried to look into his eyes, but they burned with anger as she tried to look at his face, and she turned away quickly. "It's him. Number three." "Are you sure?" Mulder pried, wanting to get absolute confirmation. "Y-yes. I'm s-s-sure." She barely managed to stutter that last phrase as she felt all the strength leave her and she collapsed onto a nearby chair, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt a hand tap her shoulder lightly, and as she turned to see who it was she saw a red-clad arm reaching out to offer her a tissue. Overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions over the criminal: the fear of seeing him again, the relief of knowing he'd finally go to jail, the tension of the last few weeks not knowing if she was safe -- it all came to a boil. She was so overwhelmed by the Mountie's kindness that she got up and threw her arms around his neck as she burst into tears once again. Fraser was taken aback by the woman's impulsive actions and he froze for a second, unsure what to do. But with the sounds of her crying he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, trying to soothe her with some reassuring words. "It's okay, miss. It's over. Everything's alright now. You're safe." He rocked her back and forth, continuing to try to comfort her. Finally her sobs subsided and she pulled back slightly. He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out another tissue. He handed it to her, but when she didn't respond he wiped the moisture away from her eyes. The contact brought her out of her daze and she blushed self-consciously, bowing her head slightly. "Thank you," she said, as she smiled and looked back up at him. "It was nothing," he responded, an automatic comment. He looked down at her to give her a reassuring smile and stopped as he saw the intensity of her look. Worried by the effect she was having on him, he swallowed quickly and excused himself as he backed away and went out into the hall. The others had been more or less aware of what had just happened, but they had been busy going through the motions of having the criminal locked away, so they hadn't done anything about it. *********** An hour later, all the appropriate paperwork had been filled out and it was time for Mulder and Scully to leave the precinct. They shook hands with detective Vecchio and constable Fraser, thanking them for the help. "It was a pleasure, agent Mulder, agent Scully," Fraser replied, smiling as he ignored the kick to the ankle Ray was giving him. "Yeah, it's been real nice," Ray added, trying to make it sound sincere. Both agents turned and walked away, leaving the two friends together. "What did you do that for, Ray? I must say that for representatives of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, they are *very* easy to work with." "Compared to what?" "Well, compared to the last agents we had to work with." "You got a point there, Benny. Besides she was way better to look at than that idiot, agent Ford." "I didn't notice, Ray." "Yeah, right, and I've got green curly hair growing off my head. You did *too* notice, just like you noticed that other woman." "What other woman?" "Miss Kuhn." "She was crying, Ray. I merely extended professional courtesy." "Oh so *that's* what you extended? Show me the section in your rulebook that says you're supposed to wipe away a woman's tears. Admit it, Benny. You want her." "That's preposterous, Ray!" "Sure, whatever. We'll see..." Ray grabbed his coat and walked towards the exit of the bullpen, leaving Benny sitting in a chair, unable to reply. ********** (a week later) Dana walked down to her partner's office and knocked. It only took a second for him to yell out an "It's open!" before she turned the knob and let herself in. "Gee, Mulder. You seem particularly cheerful today." "What can I say, Scully? I'm on my fifth cup of coffee today. Does it show?" "Barely," she teased. He smiled at her, a conspiratorial look in his eyes. "I assume there's a good reason why you're interrupting me and forcing me to tear my attention away from a fascinating new X-File. So, what can I do you for?" She ignored his come-on and smiled at him. It felt so good to be back to the old camaraderie. Sure, it had been hard for the first few days for them to stay in the same room together, especially with the case resolved. But they had come through with flying colours, finally able to rely on their habitual banter. It was a good sign. More proof that their friendship could weather anything. And someday... when things were resolved, when the Consortium's dirty laundry had been aired in public, they'd be able to finally act on their love. In public. "Earth to Scully. Come in Scully." She shook herself from her reverie and concentrated on her surroundings once again. "Oh, sorry. I came in to tell you that the lab results on the suspect we arrested in Chicago just came in." "And?" "Well, the results would seem to indicate that all your hypotheses were right." Mulder held back from gloating. For now. He simply listened as she continued to list off lab results and planned on how he could use this in the future as an 'I told you so'. "The hospital technician started some primary cultures from biopsies of muscle, skin and bone tissue. She split them enough times to generate several dozens dishes of identical tissue, and began some tests. "First, she noticed that at high and low serum content, the cells had a doubling time well above the average for human cells, approaching that which she saw for transformed hamster cells... The doubling time is much less than a day. "Next she tried some standard toxin tests, using both apoptotic and non-apoptotic agents." "Apopwhat?" Mulder interrupted. "Apoptotic. It's another term for programmed cell death. Cells have an inborn program which causes them to commit suicide if they undergo a certain type of stress, such as radiation, or receive a signal, such as an improper growth signal." "Okay..." "Basically, Mulder, these cells always die the same way, turning into dense particles called apoptotic bodies. It was this regularity that allowed scientists to first identify the phenomenon. When the technician subjected the cells to different agents, they seemed to die off at a much slower rate." "So these cells are unaffected by the agents?" "Not quite, but they take longer before they are affected. This might give them an advantage in the body, where normally a toxin isn't around as long as it was in the tissue culture dishes." "Alright, Scully, but that still doesn't explain to me how that man could have grown back fingers." *********** "Not by itself, it can't. However, there's something else I have to explain to you before I go on. When a cell matures, it either divides a number of times and then dies, or else it receives a signal to stop growing. It is believed that cancer is a situation where a cell no longer has the ability to die, or gets a signal to grow and divide non-stop. In reality, it's believed that a combination of both is what results in cancerous cells, which then turn into tumours if the conditions are right." "Alright, but I still don't understand, Scully." "There's more. In some species of animals, for example some types of lizards, there is the ability to regrow limbs. If the lizard gets caught by the tail, it simply breaks it off and runs off. Later, the tail grows back." Mulder's eyes lit up as he began to understand what his partner was leading to. "Humans don't have that ability. You're implying that our suspect has somehow regained the ability to regrow parts of his body?" "As much as I hate to admit it, Mulder, it sounds like it. I'm not able to explain exactly how he does it, but the first signs seem to point to that conclusion. There is other evidence... Some preliminary marker testing showed abnormal chromosomal organization. Several independents scans have shown that his body is riddled with small tumours, though histological tests of the biopsies seem to indicate that they are all benign. He's an anomaly, Mulder. There won't be an easy explanation as to how he managed to regrow his fingers until a more in-depth study of his genetic structure can be done. If we're lucky we'll start getting some more results in a month or two. If we're not lucky, it could take years before researchers have anything concrete." "Amazing, Scully. Isn't it amazing how nature produces such creatures?" "It's not amazing, Mulder. It's rather alarming. I told you once before, on the Flukeman case. Our polluting of the planet is causing problems. I didn't think we'd seen the last of the mutants then, and I don't think we've seen the last of them now, either." "Could this man be the answer to the prayers of all the people who have lost a limb?" "Possibly. We won't know until we understand how he did it himself." "The mind reels with the possibilities." "*Your* mind reels with the possibilities. But then it always does." "And what about the 'wildness', Scully? Is it possible he was not raised in a civilization, just like the Jersey Devil? He could have somehow been rescued from the wild later in life. That would allow him to use such tools as a syringe, but would explain his lack of speech and his wild behaviour." Dana sighed as she saw his eyes glaze over. He was off in his own world, trying to imagine the history of such a mutant. "Well, Mulder, as much as I'd love to stay and continue exchanging niceties with you, it's time for me to go home. He snapped out of his reverie at her last words. Jumping out of his chair he reached for his coat on the coat rack. "I'll walk you to your car." He opened the door and guided her through, placing his hand on the small of her back. Dana shivered and smiled. Yes, things were definitely back to normal. The end. FoLC, X-Phile Relationshipper and DueSer in mourning Return to the Due South Fiction Archive