TITLE: T.N.G.
AUTHOR: Denise Morgen
EMAIL: meadora@hotmail.com
RATING: R for adult language and scenes depicting graphic violence.
CATEGORY: S, borderline MSR, A
SPOILERS: Major, major ones for Irresistible, Milagro, Bad Blood
SUMMARY: With the help of two young agents, Mulder and Scully race
against the clock to recapture the elusive Donnie Pfaster before he
strikes at his primary target: Agent Scully.
FEEDBACK: The quick and easy way to have a shrine erected in your 
honor!
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, Donnie Pfaster, and Skinner are the 
property of Fox, 1013 productions and Chris Carter. SAC Waldin, 
Special Agent Moira Blaine, Agent Jack Carver, and all other 
characters in this story are mine, but unlike our dear Mr. Carter I 
am unadverse to someone using them with my permission. Also, a tip of
the hat to whoever owns "The Silence of the Lambs" characters and 
plot line which is mentioned very briefly in this story.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you have not seen the episode "Irresistible" stop
right here. Either go out and watch it or go to one of the X-Files 
script archives and read it before you read this. There are some 
sections in this story that will make absolutely no sense whatsoever 
with out the background info. If you don't know any of the script
archives email me and I'll send you the transcript.

ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: Very few things in the X-Files piss me off 
more than the fact that Mulder never forces the issue. Does this 
sound familiar to anyone else?:
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mulder."
Liver eating mutants, death, destruction, and enormous personal loss.
Sure, she's fine. Whatever. And yet the man always just lets it 
drop!!! Well if Carter won't do it, damn it I will! In this story, 
Mulder REFUSES to accept that as an answer. Ha! Wow, empowerment. I
feel better already! *VBG*

FINAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: Jeez, where'd all these notes come from? Anyway,
I got a couple of original characters in here and while I did beef 
'em up, I tried real hard not to turn them into Mary Sue's (never 
heard the term before? See jen's site: A Big Ball of Wrong), I'm not 
sure if I succeeded or not. My apologies if you feel like you're 
being treated to an annoyingly saccharine dose of the perfect person.

Visit my fanfiction; it gets lonely!
http://DennysX.cjb.net

Part I: A Meeting of Minds
Part II: What's Already There
Part III: And So It Begins
Part IV: A Day in the Life
Part V: Into the Fray
Part VI: On Hostile Ground

T.N.G.
By Denise Morgen

Part I: A Meeting of Minds

SAC Waldin's Office
VCU Department Head
June 27th, 10:45 A.M. EST


"You're giving me a what?!" Agent Jack Carver cried as leapt up from 
his previously relaxed slump in front of his supervisor's desk.

"A partner." SAC Waldin answered calmly. "I know you've heard of 
them, Jack, they're not that uncommon a thing."

Carver bristled under the weight of his patronizing tone. "With all 
due respect, SIR," Waldin couldn't help but notice the intentional 
stressing of his title, "I work better on my own-"

SAC Waldin had had enough so he cut off his junior agent mid-sentence. 
"Agent Carver, that's bullshit and you know it. I've allowed you to 
flaunt policy and procedure for the past year out of respect for your 
abilities but the fiasco at Gaden's bridge has illuminated the dangers 
inherent in a single agent being assigned to the field alone." Waldin
shuddered at the memory; Carver had almost been killed when the 
serial killer he was profiling had lured him into an solitary 
rendezvous.

Jack had the good grace to at least color at the last remark. "That 
wasn't my fault," he said quietly.

Waldin softened when he saw the chastised expression on his face. 
"You're right, Jack. It wasn't your fault. But if you'd had a partner 
or some kind of back up it might not have happened at all." Waldin 
shook his head ruefully. "Shit, kid. When your dad died I promised 
I'd look out for you. Old Frank'd come back from the dead and kick 
my ass if I let anything happen to you." They both chuckled slightly
in remembrance.

"Fine." Jack said resignedly. "I'm getting a partner. I can handle 
that. Hell, let me calm down a little and I might even agree with it. 
But what I don't understand is why you feel the need to saddle me 
down with some kid straight out of the academy. I'm mean come on  
sir, I worked the field for four long years before I finally managed 
to pull this assignment. And in retrospect, I'm glad I had the time to 
settle in to field work and learn procedure-" Waldin snorted in 
amusement and stared pointedly at him. "Even if I don't choose to 
follow it, it's good to know." he amended defensively. More seriously 
he continued. "Do you really think he's going to be competent; hell 
forget competent, CAPABLE of handling the kind of perversions we 
deal with on a daily basis with out a little preparation first?"

Waldin was thoughtfully silent for several minutes before answering. 
"Normally, I'd concur entirely with you assessment, but I think you'll 
find that she handles herself just fine out there. If you read her 
file you'll see that-"

"Wait a minute," Jack said, breaking in. "What do you mean, 'she'?"

"Did you even bother to look at the paperwork I sent down to you?" 
Waldin let out in an exasperated sigh.

Jack fiddled sheepishly with the edge of his jacket. "No, actually, I 
kinda quit right after I got to the 'partner assignment' section."

"Typical." He said as he shook his head and pulled out the dossier. 
"Special Agent Moira Blaine. Just got out of the academy two days ago.  
Graduated high school at the age of 14. Attended Harvard and 
graduated suma cum lauda with dual doctorate degrees in Abnormal 
Psychology and Human Physiology by the age of 20. Took two years out 
to do a residency at L.A. Regional Medical Center before joining the 
bureau earlier this year. Came out of the academy top of her class 
with the highest overall marks in the history of the FBI."

"Great," Jack snorted derisively, "a regular wunderkind. What the 
hell kinda name is Moira?"

"Irish," a lilting female voice answered. "Or Celtic, more 
appropriately. But I pronounce it Mah-ra, not Moi-ra."

Jack whirled defensively to face the owner of that voice. The two 
sized each other up silently. Humph, pretty...he thought as he 
took in her slender form topped with long auburn hair and flashing 
green eyes. Definitely Irish, probably got the temper to match - and 
obviously a self-absorbed little bitch, Jack concluded as he took in 
the exaggerated arch of her eyebrow as she glared up at him 
condescendingly. A serious feat considering he would tower over her 
by more than a foot if she wasn't wearing pumps. Hell, even given the 
extra help there was a serious height difference. Waldin shook his 
head ruefully. It was like watching David face it off against Goliath.

"All right, enough you two. Jesus, you've only been partnered three 
minutes and you're already giving me ulcers. Agent Blaine, please come 
in and take a seat next to Agent Carver. Jack," he said in a menacing 
growl, "sit down and play nice."

Carver scowled at the junior agent as she moved past him to her 
designated seat. To his surprise unlike the partners he'd had in the 
past, Blaine didn't back down. Merely met his hostile stare with a 
with another arch of her slender eyebrow and a look that amounted to 
polite disinterest. Jack admitted a grudging respect for her lack of 
reaction; he'd melted mass murderers with that look.

Moira seated herself gracefully in her chair as Jack dropped down 
like a rock, flopping over haphazardly in an insolent slouch. Waldin
observed his two agents silently for a moment. What the bloody hell
was the brass thinking, putting these two together? They were oil
and water, he was almost willing to bet they'd end up killing each 
other before they finished their first case.

"Am I to take it that Agent Carver is displeased with my assignment 
as his partner?" Blaine asked calmly before he had a chance to put 
together his thoughts and Jack jumped in to answer before he could 
speak.

"Hell, honey, you don't have to ask him. I'll tell you straight out:
yes, I am immensely displeased with your assignment. I can understand
and appreciate the need for a partner, but I don't agree with them 
saddling me with some wet-behind-the-ears rookie! I'm a profiler, not
a baby-sitter!"

She bristled at his contemptuous attitude, but before she had a chance
to match his vehemence, the SAC jumped in.

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Both of his wayward agents would later swear that
his bellow had rattled the pictures on his walls and shook the glass
of the office's tiny window.  "I had hoped that this would go well, 
but I should've known better. Jack you can bitch about this all you
want, but it's a done deal. Unless you want to put in a formal appeal
this partnership stands. And I must tell you that if you choose to do
so I will fight it every step of the way." Jack had sunk lower into 
his chair and was currently doing his best impersonation of a sullen
twelve year old. "Moira," he began more calmly. "May I call you that?"
She nodded hesitantly. "I try to run a relaxed division," he said as 
if to explain the first names. "Moira, I apologize that your first 
impression of the Violent Crimes Unit is so unfavorable," small pause 
to glare at Jack. "Once you get settled in, I'm sure you'll find he's 
not always this insufferable; just most of the time." Moira smiled 
slightly at that and Jack stiffened in his chair noticeably in 
annoyance.

"I am still in the room here, you know. Could you at least wait until
I leave to regale her with what-an-asshole-Jack-is stories?"

Waldin ignored his outburst and continued:

"I may have a case coming down the pipes for you two, but the paper
work won't be in till tomorrow-"

"Already?" the two of them said in chorus, straightening in their 
chairs and eyeing each other warily over their synchronized outburst.

These two are gonna be hell on wheels if they ever get their act 
together, Waldin thought, I can tell already. Maybe I should ask 
Skinner for tips on how to deal with troublesome agents? "Yes, 
already. Jack, I'm sure you've noticed your decreased case load..."

"Hell, yes," Jack replied through gritted teeth. "I thought I was 
gonna go out of my mind if I had to do one more routine surveillance
detail. So, this partnership thing," he said gesturing to himself and 
Moira, "has been in the works for sometime I take it?"

Waldin could tell by the tense set of his jaw that Carver felt 
betrayed that he had known about this and never told him. The SAC
sighed wearily. "Jack, if I had told you, what would you have done?
I'll tell you what you would've done: you'd've hit one of the higher
ups who owes you or you'd have gone to your friend Mulder and done
everything in your power to keep this assignment from taking place."
Waldin noticed that Blaine perked up in interest at the mention of 
Mulder's name. Hmm, interesting...she didn't strike him as a Mulder
groupie (though god knows, the man had enough of them), was it 
respect for his profiling skills or did she know him? This bore 
looking into...at the very least it would give them a point of common
interest.  Maybe he could get them co-assigned to a case with the 
Spooky Patrol; at the very least Scully'd be able to keep them all 
in line..."What's done is done. I had your best interest at heart.
Deal with it."

Jack tried to stare him down, but in the end finally nodded sulkily.
Waldin could tell that he still wasn't happy about the whole 
situation, but at least he was beginning to accept it.

"Good. Now that that's settled, I want to see you both back in my 
office by 10AM tomorrow for your case briefing. You're dismissed."

He watched the two of them rise and file to the door. Jack paused
mockingly with an exaggerated bow to let Moira exit first and Waldin
made a mental note to buy stock in Rolaids.

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

"I do hope that this irreverent attitude of yours doesn't extend into 
the field." Blaine said icily as they stepped out of Waldin's office.

Carver flashed her an exaggerated leer before replying, "Baby, you 
ain't seen nothing yet..."

She bristled under his condescension and whirled on him in 
exasperation. "My name is Special Agent Blaine. Blaine if you're 
feeling familiar, Moira if you're feeling suicidal. I am not honey, 
baby, sweetheart or any other ridiculous term of endearment you feel 
the need to afford me. Let's get at least that much straight right 
now."

Carver chuckled at her obvious irritation. "You really are a 
firecracker, aren't you?"

God, has this guy been hanging around Mulder too long or what? She
struggled to tamp down her annoyance. Time to set this jerk straight. 

"Agent Carver, you have been rude and insulting ever since I walked 
through that door. And for all that you may feel that I am unqualified 
or incapable to perform the duties and functions inherent to this 
position you ARE stuck with me. So one would think that until such 
time as your opinion is either vindicated or invalidated you would at 
least give me the benefit of the doubt. Blatant disdain does not 
make for a healthy working environment. Now if you'll excuse me, I 
have a lunch appointment to attend." And with that she spun on her 
heal and left him gaping at her as she strode into a nearby open 
elevator and was barred from his sight by the closing doors.

Jack sank into one of the waiting chairs for Waldin's office and 
laughed quietly to himself. God, that kid was something else! At the 
very least she'd be entertainment, he thought as he remembered the 
way a little crease had formed between her eyebrows at the height of 
her pique. Against his own will he conceded to himself that he could 
get to like her. Well, he decided, let's go read that file and see if 
she'll make half as good an agent as she makes a straight-man. And 
with a final grin he lifted himself from his chair and made his way 
to his waiting office.

Maybe he should get her a desk...

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

Insufferable, arrogant bastard. Self-centered, sanctimonious asshole.
God, what had she gotten herself into? Moira muttered angrily to 
herself and fought the urge to pace the restrictive confines of the
elevator. She stilled her quiet tirade as the doors opened to admit
some fellow agents and she shifted impatiently at the delay. Hurry up
and get to the damn basement, she thought, I need to ask Mulder when
the hell he started giving lessons...

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

Part II: What's Already There

X-Files Division Office
June 27, 11:15 A.M. EST

Special Agent Dana Scully stretched in her chair, reveling in the 
satisfying pop of her back straightening out after spending hours in 
a crooked position. Mulder glanced up from his paperwork at the small 
sound and flashed her a conciliatory half smile. 

"Feel any better?" He ask as he dipped his hand into the cellophane
bag at his elbow and brought a seed to his lips.

"Not remotely," she answered with a grimace as she tried to work out
some of the tension in her neck muscles.

"Ah, the myriad joys of paperwork..." Mulder said sarcastically as he
rose from his desk and crossed over to stand behind her. Scully 
glanced up at him questioningly through a veil of hair as he moved to
her side. Swatting her hands away, he immediately replaced her 
fingers with his own and Scully let out a low moan of appreciation.

"God, Mulder, why didn't you tell me you could do this six years ago?"

Mulder chuckled as her head lolled bonelessly in his grasp. "I wanted
to make sure you knew I was more than just a great set of hands."

Taking note of the time Mulder paused in his ministrations, eliciting
a small moue of protest from his diminutive partner. Resuming his
soothing motions, he spoke:

"Aren't you supposed to meet your cousin for lunch today?"

Scully glanced up at the clock but made no effort to move. "Mmm...she
said she'd meet me down here...oh, that's...nice..." Mulder's gentle
strokes were quickly removing her ability to speak in coherent 
sentences. "She's got her meeting with the VCU supervisor today and
they're assigning her a partner; she wasn't sure what time she'd get 
out."

"Hmm..." Mulder switched from her neck to her tense shoulders. "Any
idea who she's getting? I might know him, be able to give her some
pointers."

The pressure of his thumbs digging deliciously into her shoulder 
blades was pure heaven. It was almost a physical pain to have to 
devote her attention onto their conversation. "Um...I think she said
his name was Carver - Jack Carver."

Mulder laughed out loud and buried his nose in her hair to stifle his
chuckles. "Oh hell, poor kid. She's got no idea what she's getting 
into..." Scully turned her head to raise an eyebrow at him, her 
curiosity roused enough to justify sloughing off her inertia. 

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that kid from VCU I did the consult for a few years ago?"
 She nodded and Mulder was still unable to control his humor. "That's 
Carver. God Scully, he's me before I discovered the X-Files. Cocky,
independent. Entirely damn sure that he doesn't need anyone or 
anything. Too fucking intelligent for his own good, but not smart 
enough to know when to quit." Mulder shook his head ruefully. "I 
heard through the grapevine that SAC Waldin was letting him work 
without a partner since he couldn't seem to play well with others. 
That is, until they could find someone who could tolerate him without 
adding another homicide to the caseload. Poor Mar, she's got the 
tiger by the tail with this one. Maybe you should let her in on 
exactly what she's in for..."

"Unfortunately, 'she' has already found out first hand. But thanks 
for the thought, Mulder."

Mulder and Scully looked up to see Moira standing wearily in the door 
way. Uncomfortable with the intimate picture they must present, 
Mulder moved back over to his desk and Scully stood to embrace her 
cousin.

"Moira! I take it things did not go well?" Scully asked as she pulled
the younger woman into a hug.

"Let's just say I was coming down here to ask Mulder when he started
giving out lessons and leave it at that, hmm?" Moira answered with a
grimace a she buried her face in her relative's consoling shoulder.

"Ouch!" Mulder said as he clutched his heart as if he'd been shot. 
"Why do I have the feeling I resemble that remark?"

"Because you do." Scully tossed at him with a smirk as she led her 
cousin to a chair. "What happened?" She asked after Moira was 
settled.

"Agent Carver was decidedly less than thrilled to be assigned a new
partner and even more disenchanted with the thought that said partner 
be me."

Mulder scowled at the undercurrents of hurt he heard in her voice. 
Crossing over to her side, he rested a sympathetic hand on her 
shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, Mar. Jack's always been a little
bit of a punk. It's something he'll grow out of eventually. Hell, 
just ask Scully how long it took me!"

"Seven years and counting..." Scully's quip was rewarded by a glare
from Mulder and a small half smile from Blaine.

"Well, the SAC did say he was friends with you," Blaine prompted 
while her smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Is this behavior
something I can blame on your association, or should I start asking 
leading questions about his mother?"

"Sorry kid," Mulder said as he helped her to her feet. "He was like 
that long before I got to him. Looks like your gonna have to start 
interviewing relatives."

Moira let out a faux weary sigh, "Is nothing ever easy?" Swinging her
attention over to Scully she asked, "Dana, are you ready to go? I feel 
the need to drown my sorrows in one of Rigazzi's famous Tiramisu."

"Let me just straighten up these papers and I'll be ready." Dana 
replied as she busied herself tucking documents into folders.

Moira glanced over at Mulder and couldn't help but grin. He looked 
like a lost little puppy as he watched Scully get ready to leave. She 
took pity on him and said from her position at the door:

 "If you can drag yourself away from the latest crop circle 
statistics you're welcome to come too, Mulder. The more the merrier 
and all that." 

Mulder brightened considerably and grabbed his jacket off the back of
his chair as he joined her at the door.

Moira cocked an eyebrow at him. "Not going to straighten your desk?"

Mulder snorted. "And kill off my collection of dust-bunnies? I've 
been cultivating this crop since the Bush administration!"

Shaking her head at his insolence, she called out to Dana:
"Cousin, how do you put up with this lunatic?"

Scully laughed as she grabbed her purse. "You're about to find out;
sounds like you got one just like him!"

Mulder leaned in and stage whispered conspiratorially in her ear: 
"You know what they call him, don't you?"

"Who, Carver?" Mulder nodded and then continued enthusiastically:

"Spooky Junior...after that lunatic in the basement..." Moira swatted 
him on the shoulder.

"Tell me you're joking!" At Mulder's idiotic grin she shook her head 
in defeat. "Will someone please tell me when Murphy became the god of
my universe?" She asked rhetorically.

"Tough breaks, kid," Mulder said as he ushered the two women out the 
door and locked it behind them. "Just remember, you can always shoot
him." This time it was Scully that swatted him on the shoulder. "Hey!
It worked on me!"

"Shut up, Mulder." Scully said as she drug him by the arm towards the
elevator.

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

Part III: And So It Begins

North Elevator
Hoover Building
June 28, 8:46 A.M. EST

Blaine took a deep, calming breath as she entered the elevator. Lunch 
with Dana and Mulder yesterday had really put things in perspective.
Especially after Mulder described in eidetic detail exactly how their
first meeting had gone. She was surprised to learn that at first her
cousin and he hadn't been able to stand each other. And on hearing
some of the crazy things he'd put Dana through their first year 
together, she knew she was going to have her hands full trying to keep
Carver in line if he was half as much like Mulder as everyone seemed 
to think. But it also gave her hope that no matter how obnoxious 
Carver was now, there was the possibility that he'd come around in 
the end.

"Right," her subconscious prompted, "what you're REALLY hoping is 
that you'll end up with a tenth as fulfilling a partnership as Dana
and Mulder have..."

She released her trapped air with a sigh. She knew that was true. But
they were in love; even if you'd never be able to get either of them
to admit it out loud. The kind of bond they had wasn't the sort of 
thing that happened every time you got partnered up with someone. 
And the chances of her 'someone' being Jack Carver seemed about zero 
to nonexistent at this point. Not that she was looking for that kind 
of complication in her life, but it would be nice to have someone she
could at least tolerate to work with.

"Just be yourself," Mulder had told her yesterday. "Let your inner-
Scully knock him on his ass and he'll spend the next ten years 
wondering what the hell hit him."

Sounded like as good of advice as any she was going to get, she 
decided as the elevator doors opened to her floor. Might as well get
this show on the road.

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

Jack scratched his head in the age-old gesture of confusion. He 
turned the manual he was studying sideways and then upside down. It
didn't make anymore sense that way than it did right side up. 
Unfortunately, it didn't make any less sense either; not hard since 
it was all gibberish to him anyway. He never was any good at 
following directions...

"Okay," he said to himself as he warily studied the jumbled maze of
disassembled parts that surrounded the already cramped office. "I'm a
college graduate with a Doctorate in Psychology. I'm a federal agent 
with citations for courage under fire. I should not be getting my ass 
kicked by some plywood and easy-read instructions!"

Unfortunately, it appeared that his little pep talk had no affect on
either the dismantled desk or his inability to comprehend the 
directions, because it was in this same position that Agent Blaine 
found him a few minutes later.

"And I thought Mulder's office was a wreck."

"Yeah, well I hope you didn't actually expect me to clean up for 
you," Jack said sarcastically as he turned to the open door to greet 
his new partner. What she said suddenly hit him and he ask as she 
came to his side and took the manual from him, "You know Mulder?"

She shrugged noncommittally as she paged back through the manual.
"He's a...friend of mine."

Damn. Mulder always gets the cute ones. Wonder how Scully liked- Jack
broke off his though mid-stream as he realized the stunning 
resemblance between Blaine and his friend's fiery partner. Same eyes,
same lips, same hair...wow, talk about repression if she was the kind 
of 'friends' he thought she was with Mulder. Can you spell 'desperate
cry for help'? "You know, you look an awful lot like-"

"Agent Scully?" she said as she cut him off. "Dana's my cousin. And 
no, Mulder and I aren't 'that' kind of friends." She cocked an 
eyebrow at him as he sputtered but cut off his denial with an upraised
hand. "Please, it was written all over your face. I would never do 
that to him and Dana."

Carver folded his arms and looked at her sagely. "So I'm not the only
one that thinks Moose and Squirrel have more going on then they'll 
admitted to?"

"Even to themselves." Moira said with an agreeing smile as she bent 
and began to assemble the desk.

"What the hell?" Jack exclaimed in surprise as he watched her fly 
through the construction with ease. "How did you do that?" He asked
as she popped the final peg into place.

"Simple," she said as she tossed the small instruction book at him. 
"I read the directions."

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

X-Files Division Office
June 28, 9:41 A.M., EST

"Mulder."

"Agent Mulder?"

"I believe that's what I just said."

"Agent Mulder, this is Detective Mason with Minneapolis PD. We have a
situation here I believe you need to be made aware of." The man 
paused dramatically as if waiting for a cue before advancing.

"Continue." Mulder said with a small touch of exasperation at the 
man's apparent reluctance to continue speaking.

"Do you recall a convict by the name of Donald Pfaster?"

Mulder bolted out of his chair and was immediately glad that Scully
was out getting coffee. He didn't want to have her hearing only half
of this conversation. "What the hell happened? Where is he? Start 
talking and do it now, Detective. I need all the info you've got."

The detective gulped audibly at his vehemence and began, "Pfaster 
escaped from prison some time yesterday-"

"Sometime! You don't even fucking know how long he's been out?!"

"If you'll allow me to explain..."

"Cut to the damn chase." Mulder said through clenched teeth as he
edged himself back down into his chair.

"Yesterday morning at 7:32 A.M. Donald Pfaster was brought into the
infirmary suffering from a sudden apparent asthma attack. He was the 
only patient there at the time. At 8:57 A.M. a bomb threat was called 
into the warden's office. As per procedure the inmates and staff were 
evacuated. On the way out, one inmate pulled a fire alarm and in the
ensuing pandemonium attempted to make an escape with his cell mate 
and three other convicts. In the confusion following their recapture 
and the bomb squad sweep of the building it wasn't until 4:43 P.M. 
that the disappearance of Pfaster and the nurse who was overlooking
him, one Daphne Cryder, was discovered. They, uh, found what was 
left of Ms. Cryder when the blood started leaking down from the 
ceiling tiles..."

"Shit..." Mulder swore softly as he rubbed his aching eyes. "Did he
take her fingernails? Hair? Some other kind of trophy?"

"How did you know? That information hasn't been released-"

Mulder rolled his eyes at the man's obtuseness. "It's part of his MO.
What did he take?"

"Everything you said and her eyes...he took her eyes."

"Fucking great; he's escalating. Fax me the case report immediately. 
I'm assuming you've got the standard APB's, road blocks, TV 
bulletins?"

"Um, actually, the, uh, governor want this kept as quiet as possible-"

"Oh, I forgot," Mulder said sarcastically. "It's an election year. 
Now you get this fucking straight right now: you have a confirmed 
serial killer on the loose with a twenty four hour head-start looking 
for his next victim even as we speak. He may already have committed 
another murder. You get those road-blocks up, get those bulletins out 
or I'm calling CNN myself. Let's see how good that'll look on the 
governor's re-election bid platform. I want surveillance both on 
Donnie's old place and his mother's property as well as all of the
surrounding cemeteries. Oh and have someone case the local 'working 
girl' section of town. It's possible that Pfaster would hit that area 
for a quick kill before he moves on. I need background info on all of
Donnie's surviving relatives and any property they might own. You got 
all that, Detective?" He asked sharply, stressing the title.

"Yes sir. I got it. I'll have my people get on it right away." He 
could practically hear the man's teeth grinding in the background 
in an attempt to keep himself from saying more.

"See that you do," Mulder snarled into the receiver. "My partner and
I will be there by tonight. Have everything ready to hand over to us."
With a brutal swipe of his hand he disconnected the call.

"New case?" Scully asked as she moved into the room and set a steaming 
cup of coffee on his desk in front of him.

Mulder gulped down half a cup of the too hot beverage in an attempt to
gather his thoughts before having to answer her, scalding his tongue 
and the roof of his mouth in his attempt at diversion. He choked 
slightly at the heat but forced it down to buy himself some time. 
Scully looked at him strangely and cocked an eyebrow at his 
sputtering attempt to swallow.

"Did I forget to mention the coffee was hot?" she asked as she 
settled herself on the corner of his desk. "I would have thought the
broiling steam pouring off of it would have been an indication, but
apparently not..." Scully trailed off when she saw his lack of 
reaction to her little attempt at a joke. Usually any small attempt 
at humor on her part was met with a boisterous reaction on Mulder's.
"Mulder, what's wrong?"

"Scully-" He started and then broke off abruptly to stare down into
his coffee cup. Fuck. He was looking forward to having to tell her 
this like he would look forward to having dental surgery performed...
with out the anesthesia. Well it wasn't getting any better by 
waiting. "Scully, Pfaster's escaped."

Anyone else would've missed the minuscule straightening of her spine
or the almost imperceptible tightening of her facial muscles at his 
news. Anyone but Mulder, who saw that tension and recognized it for 
what it was: Scully retreating behind the icy wall of her 'Special 
Agent' persona. Any personal questions asked now, any offers of help
would be answered with the inevitable "I'm fine." and the subject 
closed. It was the one thing he truly hated about his partner: her 
inability to accept his help when she needed it on a personal level.
Her refusal to believe in the paranormal, their constant bickering,
neither of these things actually bothered him in the slightest; they
were just elements of their partnership. But her unwillingness to 
allow him to be there for her had the power to make him absolutely 
livid.

"When do we get the case file?"

"They should be faxing it to us now."

"Good. I'll go check the machine-"

"Scully-" He said as he caught her hand in his to prevent her from
leaving the room. He met her eyes searchingly, silently begging her 
to let him in.

"Mulder. I'm fine," Mulder gritted his teeth at the hated words. 
"Let's get to work." 

"Dana-" He said, trying to force a response through the uncommon use 
of her first name. Scully's only reaction was a small involuntary 
flinch but before she could reassert her denial they were interrupted 
by the ringing of the desk phone.

"Mulder." He growled into the headset. Scully escaped his hold and 
listened quietly from the shelter of her desk as Mulder continued to 
practically snarl at the phone.

"I'm aware of that, sir. I got the call just a few minutes ago. When 
can Scully and I leave?"

"No...no, sir. Agent Scully assures me she's fine." Mulder 
practically spat out the last word in agitation.

"What?!" Mulder yelled as he stood up. "This is our case!" Silence as
Mulder paced the confines of the their office. "I don't give a damn 
who - no...no...Fine. When's the briefing? Make sure they understand 
who's in charge. I want that specified...We'll be there." Mulder 
virtually threw the headset back on to the receiver.

"We've been co-assigned to this case with another set of agents," he
snapped before she had a chance to ask.

"What!" Scully cried as she leapt to her feet. 

"They're waiting for us in the conference room," he said as he guided
her to the door with a hand on her back and then out into the hall.

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

Part IV: A Day in the Life

Stop and Shop Boutique
20 minutes outside Minneapolis
June 28, 10:13 A.M., CST

"Can I help you, sir?" Donna asked the strangely dressed man who had 
just entered the cramped clothing shop. It looked like he was wearing 
hospital scrubs. He must be some kind of doctor or something, she 
decided, the hospital was only about twenty miles from here. Funny;
she didn't remember ever seeing doctors out in town like this before.
Something must've happened to his clothes; poor man. He smiled 
uncertainly at her as he held up a shirt for her inspection.

"Yes, ma'am. Would you happen to have this in an extra large?" His 
voice was almost unnaturally toneless in the echoing quiet of the 
empty store.

"Hmm..." Donna said as she took the shirt from him and nibbled on her
lip. "I might have one if you don't mind coming in the back to get 
it," she replied with a sheepish grin. "My stock boy Jason's out with 
the flu and I can't reach anything on the top shelf."

"That will be fine," the man said with a small smile in his funny 
monotone voice as he followed her to the back. "You have lovely 
hair...Is it permed or color treated?"

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

Hallway outside SAC Waldin's Office
June 28, 9:52 A.M. EST

Blaine and Carver were still bickering as they reached the SAC's 
office.

"Are you insane? While I'll admit, Agent Starling's work with Doctor
Lecter was inspired, but that's not to say every cadet would work out 
so well!" 

"And I'm not saying that they should let 'every cadet' try it! But if
we're going to start pulling in the personnel the VCU so desperately
needs, wouldn't you like to know that they can handle it first? You 
had that very complaint yesterday about me! And of course you'd 
partner them up with more experienced agents...I still can't believe 
they let Clarisse do it alone-"

"Jesus, Blaine. Is there anyone you don't know?"

"Agents Blaine and Carver?" the voice of Waldin's secretary broke 
into their discussion.

"Yes?" Carver answered.

"The SAC wants you to meet him in the conference room for your joint
case briefing."

"Joint?" Blaine asked in confusion. "He's assigning us to a case with
another set of agents?"

"Bullshit. Now they think we BOTH need baby-sat!" Jack grabbed Blaine
by the arm and drug her to the elevator. "Come on, let's go find out 
what the hell this is all about."

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

Stop and Shop Boutique
June 28, 4:09 P.M. CST

Carlie glanced impatiently down at her watch. Where the hell WAS 
Donna? They'd had this little shopping trip planned for months! If 
they didn't hurry up and get going they were gonna get caught in 
rush hour! Carlie gritted her teeth in annoyance. "If she forgot, I'm 
gonna kill her," she said definitively as she got out of the car and 
headed towards the shop were her friend worked.

Carlie frowned as she reached the front door. It was ten after four
and the 'open' sign still swung defiantly over the tiny window, even
though the shop closed up at 3:30. She felt a breath of cold air dart
down her spine; Donna was NEVER late about closing. Something was 
definitely wrong. Carlie nibbled nervously on her bottom lip as she
grabbed a hold of the door knob. Should she go in? She glanced 
indecisively from the door in front of her and back to her waiting 
car. Finally, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders in
determination as she wrenched open the door. Peeking her head in
cautiously, Carlie blinked her eyes to accustom them to the dim
lighting of the shop.

"Donna?" she called nervously as she edged her way into the empty 
store. "Donna, you still in here?" The eerie quiet of the place
enveloped her as she moved toward the back of the building. The 
curtain that blocked off the stockroom from the rest of the store 
fluttered restlessly in the draft of the overhead fan as she thrust 
it aside to enter.

"Don-" her anxious call was cut off with a horrified gasp at the 
sight that met her disbelieving eyes. 

And then the silence was broken by her screams.

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

North Elevator
Hoover Building
June 28, 10:01 A.M. EST

Scully stood rigidly at attention as the elevator inched it's way up
from the basement dungeon of the Hoover building. Mulder wasn't 
nearly so contained as he paced angrily back and forth within the 
tight confines of the tiny box. She wished desperately that he would 
stop; she was having a hard enough time keeping it together without 
SpasticMulder making an unscheduled appearance. 

Sometimes it was enough to make her wonder if Missy had been right
about her and Mulder being telepathically linked, because no sooner
did she finish the thought than Mulder forced himself to an abrupt 
halt by her side and place a soothing hand on her lower back. For a
moment she allowed herself to lean gratefully back into his support.

Feeling her sudden weight against his arm, Mulder shocked the hell 
out of his partner (and himself, for that matter) by sliding his arms 
around her waist and pulling her back into his embrace. She stiffened
immediately in surprise but he only wrapped his arms more tightly
about her small frame.

"We're gonna get this son of a bitch, Scully," he whispered into her
hair. "And I'm not gonna let you push me away with your 'I'm fine's.'
I'm gonna be right here with you the whole time, and if you don't 
think you can handle that tell me now so I can have someone else 
assigned to this case. I'm not trying to be over protective but I will
not risk losing you again because you won't let me in."

Scully had been tensing within his grasp progressively throughout
his little speech. She could swear that there were a thousand voices
screaming in her voice inside her head. And each one was voicing their 
opinion strenuously about how unprofessional this behavior was, and 
who did he think he was to try to FORCE her to reveal herself, and 
how DARE he give her an ultimatum, on and on and on all along the 
same vein. But then one little voice caught her attention; a part of 
herself she kept so deeply buried most of time she didn't even 
acknowledge that it existed. And that little voice whispered 
seductively to her, a striking counterpoint to the otherwise 
screaming cacophony. It murmured soothingly about how he was only
trying to look out for her, and how she really wasn't equipped to 
handle this one on her own, and wouldn't it be nice to let him hold 
her up for just a little while? In an entrancing sigh, it's phantom
voice caressed her mind with her almost unwilling acknowledgment of 
how wonderful the solid warmth of his body felt pressed tight against 
hers and the security she felt as his arms pulled her close.

Scully surprised herself by not trying to rationalize or brush off 
that final thought. Things between she and Mulder had been changing
lately, and this was all just another symptom of the new closeness
that seemed to be blossoming between them. Maybe it is time, she 
thought, time to quit holding him at arm's length. Time to accept the
fact that if she was ever going to truly trust anyone in her life 
with her heart and soul there was no one more qualified to take up 
the task of guarding than Mulder. Her body relaxed unconsciously and
Mulder breathed out a tremulous sigh of relief as her hand 
subconsciously reached back and tangled itself in his hair.

"I'll try," she whispered raggedly past a dry throat. But her 
following silence told him that it wouldn't be easy. 

"That's all I ask," he said finally as he placed a light kiss on the 
top of her head while their ascent slowed.

The elevator pulled to a stop and Mulder retreated from his enfolding
embrace. Scully released him reluctantly and was surprised to find 
that she felt somehow much more vulnerable without his touch. Mulder 
must've been practicing his telepathy again because no more did she
realize she missed the contact than his hand returned caressingly to 
the small of her back. Scully leaned back and let out a sigh of 
contentment when Mulder wrapped his hand more securely against her 
side and leaned her head back against his shoulder.
 
"I wonder who they assigned to work this case with us?" She mused 
aloud as the doors slid open.

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

If Jack hadn't paused in his ranting to draw in a breath as the doors
opened, they might've missed the familiar woman's voice. As it was 
Moira found herself immeasurably calmed to know that she'd be working
with Dana and Mulder on her first case. So it was with a renewed 
confidence that she slid between the halves of the hatch before it 
finished opening and tossed out half a jaunty 'that would be us' 
before the shock of seeing her cousin practically being held upright 
by her partner's arms smacked her between the eyes. Normally Moira 
would've been on the phone with Aunt Maggie in a minute and a half to 
gloat with satisfaction over having found these two in such a 
compromising position, but there was something about the dazed way 
that Mulder's free hand shook slightly as he ran it through his hair 
and the fact that both of them were about three shades too pale that 
said this wasn't necessarily a cause for celebration. Her new-found 
confidence drained out of her in a rush.

Holy shit, she wondered, what the hell kind of case have we gotten 
ourselves into?

"Guess that answers that question..." Mulder said sarcastically down 
to the drooping Dana. "Now if we can just figure out how far a dog 
can run into the woods then we can move on to the bonus round..."

"Half-way." Moira answered automatically. "Then he's running out."

"Do we have to go over the meaning of a hypothetical question, 
Blaine?" Carver asked as he shouldered her to the side to gain 
entrance to the elevator before the doors closed. Being manhandled by 
her new partner seemed to break her out of her haze and she glared
at him in annoyance as she moved over to the side. Jack ignored her
to study the two agents in front of him.

"No offense intended, but you two look like hell. Is this about the
case or is it a personal problem?"

"Carver!" Blaine spat out at him in irritation at his bluntness.

Jack shrugged unapologetically. "So subtlety's not my forte. Sue me.
Just make sure to tell me what's going on first."

The elevator finally reached the conference floor and Mulder and 
Scully slid between the junior agents to exit. "Pfaster's escaped." 
Mulder said with a forced nonchalance as they passed between the two 
on their way out. Blaine and Carver both felt their blood run cold at 
his pseudo-calm announcement. Both were vaguely familiar with the 
case and what little they knew was not good. Jack shook his head. 
Fuck; what a first case! Well at least now he knew why they'd been 
called in on this one: it wasn't so they could be watched, but so 
they could watch out for Mulder and Scully! Suddenly, he was glad 
they'd assigned him a partner; there's no way they'd have put him on 
this case if he was still doing his 'lone gunman' impersonation. But
damn, what a way for his partner to be inducted to her new job... 
"Welcome to the VCU, kid." He said quietly as they left the elevator 
and filed down the hall after their fellow agents.

For once, Blaine chose not to take offense.

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

Part V: Into the Fray

Somewhere over northern Virginia
June 28, 1:46 P.M. EST

Scully let out her breath in a ragged sigh as the plane leveled off.
No matter how many times she flew, she still hated it. It took a few
more minutes before she could coax her hands into releasing the arm-
rests. Normally Mulder would've taken her mind off the flight with a
joke or questions on the case, but their flight was booked solid and 
none of them had been able to get seats anywhere near each other. And
unsurprisingly, she didn't think that concentrating on the case would
have helped her relax any. Her eyes slipped shut for a moment and she
had to force back the memories of the short agonizing captivity she'd 
experienced at Pfaster's hands that seemed to jump to the front of 
her consciousness. A hand brushed her cheek softly and only the 
constriction of the seat belt kept her from leaping away. Her eyes 
jerked open to see her partner's concerned face as he bent over her.

"Hey," he said quietly, "it's just me..."

She looked around uncertainly. The haggard business man beside her
had already fallen asleep and the overweight tourist that had occupied
the seat to her right was nowhere to be seen. 

"I had the stewardess switch us seats," he said when he noticed her
curiosity. "Blaine and Carver are in the row in front of us. I've
given them the original case report on Pfaster so they can be 
familiar with the background info before they have to jump into this
one." She nodded acceptingly and attempted to pull herself together
enough to concentrate on the case.

"Good. That'll give us a chance to go over the current report before
we have to compare notes," she said equitably. Mulder watched her 
silently as she dug out the case file and began paging through it.

"Scully..." he began as she suddenly burst into a recitation about the
information contained in the file.

"It says here that the bomb threat call was traced to the prison 
infirmary. Do you think Pfaster was in league with the other inmates
who attempted to escape?"

"Scully-" he tried again as she continued to cut him off.

"I'd like to redo the autopsy on Cryder. I just keep getting the 
feeling that something's missing from the official report. I think 
Clayton will understand, he was the supervising pathologist on the
autopsy from last time as well. From the reports I have here it 
appears Pfaster's violence level is increasing-"

"Scully-"

"-the amount of physical damage he caused to this victim far exceeds
anything we'd seen from him up to this point-"

"Scully, you're rambling," he said gently as he lifted the folder
out of her crushing grasp.

Deprived of the folder, Scully's hands balled themselves into fists
before dropping uselessly into her lap. Slumping back into her seat
in resignation, she took several deep breaths to calm herself before
speaking. 

"What am I supposed to do Mulder?" she asked wearily as her eyes slid \
up to meet his. "I need something to focus on, or I'm gonna go 
insane."

Mulder was surprised by her candid admittance, maybe that talk in the
elevator had actually done some good...Reaching over, he pulled her
unresisting hand into his and proceeded to pry her fingers open from 
their nervous clench. Once he'd succeeded in opening her hand, he 
kneaded the tense muscles of her comparatively tiny digits before 
threading his fingers with her own. Stroking the back of her hand 
with his thumb, he reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair
off of her forehead with the fingertips of his other hand. Scully 
refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the milk and
honey merger of their entwined appendages. In a world that was 
suddenly spinning blindingly out of her control, the soft pressure of 
his thumb brushing back and forth across her flesh was her only solid
link to reality.

"Talk to me..." Mulder whispered as he nudged her chin up with the
feathery touch of his fingers along her jaw, forcing her reluctant 
eyes to meet his penetrating stare. Perceiving herself trapped, 
Scully's hand tightened on his reflexively.

"Muld-"

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Scully sagged in relief at the welcome interruption and turned her
attention gratefully to the flight attendant. "I'd like a bottled
water, please."

"And you, sir?"

Mulder only barely resisted the urge to growl at the woman. This 
close, he'd been THIS CLOSE to getting Scully to open up and this
asinine twit decides it would be a good time to start the beverage
service. "I don't suppose you have iced tea, do you?" Okay, so that
wasn't TOTALLY a growl, but the little girl did seem to flinch a 
bit as she bent to check her cart...

"Um, we have canned Lipton with lemon, sir. Will that do?"

"Fine." Now THAT was a growl.

She quickly handed over the sweat beaded can and hurried on to the
next set of passengers. People were just so grouchy on these mid-week
flights!

"Are you making terrorizing the airline staff a new hobby, Mulder?" 
Scully ask as she twisted the cap off of her water.

Mulder grimaced in annoyance as he popped open his can and poured it
into the tiny plastic cup. "Well, I've already worked my way through
federal employees; I figure it's only fair to spread the wealth."

"Hey, Mulder..." Mulder raised his eyes to the top of the seat in 
front of him. Blaine had twisted around and was leaning over the top
of the seat with a file in her hand and her reading glasses perched
precariously on the end of her nose, unnoticed through the haze of 
her excitement. Put her hair in pigtails and she'd be the very 
picture of a little girl in a candy store, Mulder decided with a
grin.

"Hey, Blaine." He echoed back teasingly as she reseated her glasses
and focused on a particular section of the file.

"Mulder, are we sure this isn't a straight X-File? It says here that 
on a couple instances when confronted with Donnie several people 
reported seeing a demonic visage in his place. I mean, listen to this 
one:

'I heard a noise from the back of the room, like somebody was messing
with the coffins. I called out but no one answered, and then this,
this THING came up out of the shadows. I don't know what else to call
it; it looked like a demon, or the devil himself. I flipped around 
and turned on the lights, but it was only Donnie...'"

"I don't believe this shit," came the muffled sound of Carver's voice
as he turned around in his chair. "Blaine, tell me you don't really 
buy this crap. C'mon; 'demonic visage'? It was dark, in a morgue, 
with NO windows. The guy was seeing things, his mind was playing 
tricks on him. It's the only reasonable explanation-"

"Just because it's the only 'reasonable explanation,' doesn't make it
fact," Mulder jumped in, "sometimes the truth can only be found with
in the realm of the unlikely or implausible. You have to learn to 
open yourself up to extreme possibilities..."

"Whatever, Mulder. Look, I know you hunt little green men-"

"Gray." Three voices interrupted him.

"Fine. Little GRAY men for a living and I'm sure vampires and demons
and all other manner of esoteria are part of your every day fare, but 
I live in the real world, okay? Don't get me wrong, man; I got 
nothing but the utmost respect for your profiling abilities and all 
you've accomplished. Hell, I consider you one of my friends! But 
unless you can drop Beelzebub down in my lap, there's no way you're 
gonna convince me that this shit's anything more than fairy tales and 
urban legend. And my personal skepticism aside, Scully here got real 
cozy with this psycho, and she didn't see anything. Right, Scully?"

All three shifted their attention to Scully. Dana looked from one 
face to another. What did they expect her to say? Yes, I watched him
morph into the faces of various other sociopaths, but it was all in
my head? That the only reason he managed to get the gun away from me
right before Mulder came in was that he appeared to transform into a 
demon and back in the blink of an eye? NO. No, it was just an 
illusion. A vision concocted by her subconscious to personify the 
depth of corruption in that odious little man. No one wants to 
believe that much blatant evil could exist inside a human being...
obviously she was unconsciously trying to project her perception 
of his depravity  onto a form more suited for the kind of savagery 
she knew Donnie was capable of. THERE WAS NO DEMON.

"Dana?" Moira asked worriedly at her cousin's sudden loss of color.
"Dana, are you all right?"

Scully took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm fine." Mulder rolled
his eyes in disgust, but before he could say anything she jumped back
in. "Donald Pfaster is not a demon. He is not a devil, or a vampire,
or any other creature of the night. The only thing he IS, is an evil, 
demented, twisted, little shell of a man. And no matter how warped 
and inhumane his actions, he is still a member of the human race. 
Regardless of how we might wish it to be otherwise..."

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

The sharp metallic tang of blood was heavy in her mouth as she 
struggled to focus beyond the blinding presence of her pain. Finally,
it was the steady thrum of the over head fan that provided her with
a welcome anchor in the abyss. Painstakingly she crawled her way back
up to consciousness. God, it hurt to breathe, to think. A century in
hell would only barely equal the degree of torture it was to pry open
the crusted veil of her eyelids. Confusion swam her already muddy 
vision. Where was she?! The last thing she remembered was the lulling 
conversation Mulder and Moira were having about the academic 
difference between a vampire and a chuppacabra washing away her 
awareness as she cuddled into the paper-thin airline blanket. She 
gasped as another spike of agony hit her and terror wasn't far behind 
as her bleary vision cleared. The pathetic half-light of a small 
broken window off to her right was the only source of illumination.
Fighting to focus on something, anything concrete the first thing she
noticed was blood. Blood everywhere! Painting the walls, the shelves.
Splattering out from her position in streaks and puddles. Shock fell
over her like an icy shawl and panic began to gnaw its frayed edges. 
The iron fist of her rationality and control had deserted her. Her 
reason wore out like a used fan belt as she fought to think 
logically. From her position, she thought with rapidly floundering 
detachment, the pattern of the blood trail was fanning out from her 
position. Hence, Logic said the blood must be hers. Steeling herself, 
she looked down and immediately had to fight the urge to pass out 
again. 

itcantberealitcantberealohmygoditcantberealohmygod- The ragged gasp
of her breath drowned out the fan as she began to hyperventilate.

She had been aware of the fact that her arms and legs were 
immobilized but it hadn't managed to become the focus of her 
attention. Even now, the twisted metal digging bloody furrows into 
the soft skin of her ankles and wrists was only barely noteworthy. 
What did manage to captivate her was the ragged whole where her 
stomach should be. From sternum to groin the inner cavity of her
body was visible, the jagged flaps of useless skin pulled back and 
intestines spilling sloppily to the floor in a macabre design. 

nononoitcantberealitspadgettalloveragainohgodthepain-

"Do you like my work, girlie girl?" She screamed in misery as her 
body jumped, surprised by the soft unexpected huff of his words in 
her ear. The putrid smell of his breath so close overwhelmed even the 
stench of the surrounding gore. He moved around to the front of her 
and Dana screamed again to see the leering demonic form in front of 
her. Her eyes slammed shut in denial.

demonsdontexistdontexistitsallinmyheadohmygodimgoingcrazyinsaneno-

She jumped at the incongruously soft touch of his hand upon her 
forehead as he smoothed a wayward strand of hair off her brow. Her 
eyes popped open to be greeted with Donnie's benignly smiling form. 
She cursed her weakness when she involuntarily leapt back from him as 
far as her ramshackle chains would allow when he leaned in towards 
her. His eyes locked with hers as he caressed the line of her cheek
just as Mulder had touched her earlier, soiling the memory of her 
partner's tender caress.

"I'm coming for you, girlie girl. Be ready..." His soulless whisper 
echoing hauntingly in her ears as the room around her began to fade.

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

Scully bolted upright out of the enfolding warmth of the airplane
seat. It took her several seconds before her horror subsided enough
to absorb her surroundings. Mulder mumbled in his sleep in the seat
beside her and the business man to her left was eyeing her curiously
over his Michael Crichton novel. Her hand flew to her stomach and she
let out a hitching half-sob of a sigh when she encountered solid 
flesh.

adreamitwasadreamanightmareimokayohgodoh-

Mulder began to stir self-consciously at her distress and she put a 
clamp on her panic. She couldn't let him wake up and see her like 
this! Forcing her hand to release its titan grip on her blouse she
consciously relaxed her tense muscles and eased herself back down 
into her seat. When she finally felt capable of behaving normally she
slid out of her seat and climbed carefully over her partner on her 
way into the aisle. Mulder's eyes peaked open and he smiled blearily
at her as she moved over him. She managed a small half smile in 
return and his eyes slid drowsily closed.

In the haven of the cramped lavatory, she finally allowed the tears
to fall.

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

Part VI: On Hostile Ground

Carver compressed his lips together in a thin line of annoyance as 
the airhead behind the counter continued to ignore him in favor of 
her obviously pressing phone call.

"He did what? No! Oh honey, you can't let him get away with that!"

"Excuse me..." he said from between clenched teeth.

The woman glanced at him in irritation before rolling her eyes and 
turning slightly to the side in her chair away from him to continue
her conversation. "Girl, just kick him out! You can do so much better
than that lowlife scumbag!"

The urge to take out his sidearm and do his part to contribute to 
population control was almost more than he could stand. I will not 
kill this woman for being an idiot. I will not kill this woman for 
being an idiot, he told himself silently. My new mantra is not 
working, he decided a few minutes later as he listened to her chomp 
noisily on her bubble gum and rattle on about how her friend should 
leave that "spineless dog of a man." He still felt an almost 
blinding desire to put her out of his misery. Finally he just 
couldn't take it anymore. With a flick of his wrist he reached 
out and disconnected the cord from the receiver.

"Hey!" She screamed out in rage. "What the hell-"

He cut her off before she could warm into her little tirade by 
flopping his ID open onto the counter. "Excuse me," he said again 
with obvious sarcasm. "My name is Special Agent Carver of the Federal 
Bureau of Investigation," he continued with as much authority as 
possible. "I am on my way to a secured crime scene to take part in an 
ongoing investigation. By refusing to serve me, you are interfering 
with my ability to contribute at a necessary stage of this inquiry. 
Now, either get off your ass and get me two rental cars or I'll have 
you arrested for impeding a Federal Investigation...Please." He added 
almost as an afterthought. It was immeasurably satisfying to watch 
her face pale beneath the overly bleached mop of her hair.

"Well, you coulda just said so," she muttered resentfully as she went
to fetch the necessary forms. "No need to be rude."

Jack rolled his eyes in disgust and dropped his face into his hands.

"Well, that was entertaining." Jack raised his head wearily from his
palms at the now-familiar voice. Tossing a sardonic grin at his new 
partner, he glanced questioningly around her. 

"Where are Mulder and Scully?" he asked as she came up to lean on the
counter beside him.

"Scully's in the bathroom and Mulder's putting that eidetic memory to
good use by grabbing our gear off the baggage carousel." He nodded 
and they fell into an easy silence.

"So," Blaine asked with a smirk after the girl had returned with the 
keys to their cars and the required paperwork. "Do you always use 
your credentials to badger clerks into giving you better service, or 
was that just a spur of the moment thing?"

"Actually," he said as he perused the forms before him, "it was an
unbridled annoyance thing." His eyes widened in surprise when he 
reached the final form. "But if it gets us this kind of service, I
may be persuaded to make it a standard procedure thing."

Moira couldn't help but be a little startled by his use of the word
'us.' Even though he was technically her partner, she didn't expect
him to think of them as any kind of a team at this point. So it was
with renewed optimism that she tackled the papers he'd handed her.
Now it was her eyes that widened.

"GMC Jimmies?! Wow! I thought the only thing agents ever got were 
those standard issue Ford Taurus's! Maybe you should badger the 
clerks more often!"

Carver chuckled in response. "Hey, maybe we could work up some kind
of a system; you know, sorta like a good-cop/bad-cop kinda thing. One
of us can rile 'em up and the other can play on the sympathy vote."

Blaine grinned in response. "Sounds like a plan, but who gets to be
the bad cop?"

"We'll just have to base it on who fits the situation more," he 
replied with a vague wave of his hand.

"Or we could just take turns..."

Carver snorted in disgust. "Nah, that's way too approaching 
democratic. Let's just leave it to chance; I work better when I'm 
relying on an act of God."

Moira broke out with a laugh that he quickly shared. "Carver, you 
just kill me..."

A voice interrupted their new-found camaraderie, "Aw, Scully, isn't 
that cute? Partnered together for two days and they're already 
bonding."

Blaine turned with a smile still on her lips and said in chorus with
Dana:

"Shut up, Mulder."

"You'd never guess they're related," Mulder said with a sarcastic
smile. "So, what color Taurus did we get?" he asked as they all 
shouldered their respective bags. Any answer he might have received 
was lost to the ringing of his cell phone.

"Mulder...Ah, Det. Mason, so good to hear from you." Scully rolled
her eyes at the blatant sarcasm in him voice.

"What? When? Okay, how far is that from the airport? Uh-huh... Yeah. 
Turn where? All right, we'll be there in twenty minutes."

Mulder replaced the phone in his pocket and turned to face his 
audience. "Looks like our boy's been busy: we've got one right 
outside of Minneapolis." Taking a piece of paper out and scribbling 
furiously, he continued. "Here are the directions, but try to follow 
me. A lot of this is back road and it's easy to get lost once we get 
off the highway." Carver reached out to take the directions from him, 
but Mulder handed them to Blaine instead. Jack frowned at him and 
Mulder shrugged. "I got two words for you Jack: Imperial, Missouri. 
Damn town's not even big enough to be called a town and you had us 
lost in it for six hours looking for that crime scene last time I 
helped you out. I'd like to see you two at this one before they pack 
up the evidence kits; better let Moira drive." 

Blaine smirked at him as she lifted the keys out of his unresisting 
hand as they all entered the parking lot.  Mulder and Scully both 
gaped a little when they reached their vehicle's assigned spot. As 
Mulder popped the back open and tossed in their luggage Scully 
wondered aloud if they should check and see if it was some kind of 
mistake. Mulder turned around and flashed her a look that just
screamed you-must-be-kidding and laughed.

"Scully, if it WAS a mistake for once it was a mistake in our favor. 
I vote we let this one slide!"

She nodded uncertainly and climbed in on the passenger side. Mulder 
waved his readiness to the two agents in the adjoining vehicle before 
sliding into his and pulling out of the parking lot.

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

Agents Blaine and Carvers' Vehicle
Enroute to the crime scene

"Are you pouting?"

"No."

"Yes you are! I can't believe you're pouting!"

"I am NOT pouting."

"C'mon; just cause Mulder said I'm a better driver than
you is no reason to pout."

"Mulder did NOT say you were a better driver; he merely
intimated that you're better at directions than I am."

"Whatever...I'm the one he handed the keys to."

"Whatever."

"Whatever."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Look, could you just shut up and drive please?"

"No problem."

"Good."

"Good."

"I thought you were shutting up?"

"I was but you just kept talking. Are you aware of 
your apparent compulsion to have the last word?"

"ME?! You're the one who keeps parroting back everything
I say!"

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"NO I'm not."

"YES you - AAGH! Look this is juvenile. Let's just concentrate
on getting to the crime scene, okay? Think you can manage that?"

Gritted teeth. Hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"I can handle that just fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"You're doing it again!!!"

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

Agents Mulder and Scully's Vehicle
Enroute to the crime scene

"Seed?"

"Mulder, when have I ever accepted a sunflower seed from you?"

"Never."

"So explain to me why it is you feel the need to offer me one 
every time we get in a car?"

"Force of habit at this point, I guess. Besides, the one time I 
decide not to will be the time you decide you want one...So, seed?"

"Oh, all right. Just give me the damn thing." Silence. "Well Mulder, 
I'm waiting. Are you gonna give me a seed or not?"

"Sorry, Scully. The shock got to me for a second there. Sure, here's 
some seeds."

"I only wanted one."

"You can't have just ONE, Scully! It's like those cookies; you gotta 
have more than one!"

"Um, Mulder, the cookie slogan was 'bet you bite a chip.' Pringles 
was 'bet you can't eat just one.'"

"No it wasn't! Was it?"

"Yeah it was."

"Hey, who's got the eidetic memory here? I'd swear it was the 
cookies..."

"At this point, Mulder, I don't think I buy that eidetic memory bit. 
You can't remember birthdays, holidays, to feed your fish..."

"Hey, leave my fish outta this. Just take the seeds, Scully."

The car is quiet except for some soft crunching sounds.

"Are you sure it was the chips?"

"Yep."

"Damn...I don't think I buy the eidetic memory thing any more 
either."

Once again the car was quiet except for the crackle of the seeds and 
the soft rustle of the cellophane as they both dipped their fingers 
into it to retrieve more.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"How're you doing so far?"

"I'm fi-"

"Finish that sentence and I'm heading back to the airport."

"Mulder."

"Scully."

Glares dancing back and forth, each daring the other to crack. 
Finally Scully crumbles.

"Really, Mulder, I'm as okay as I can be in this situation. As soon 
as we get this bastard I'll be more than okay."

Eyes peer into hers searchingly. Finally satisfied, he nods and 
reaches over for her hand. Fingers entwine and they ride silently the 
rest of the way in contemplation.

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

Undisclosed location
outside the Stop and Shop Boutique

He watches, waiting. She will come, he knows it; he can FEEL it. The
trembling patter of her heart as she nears the scene flows in rhythm
with the pounding of his own. 

She will come, she will come, she will come, she will come.

He just knows. 

He felt her there in those final moments, saw her ice blue eyes
peering out at him from behind the filmy green of his victim's.

It pleases him to know she was able to appreciate his handiwork first
hand. He wishes the host hadn't died so quickly, escaping to blessed
silence before he had a chance to show her more. He won't make the 
same mistake next time...

Time passes.

People flow in and out like the tides, dashing themselves on the 
rocks of his attention while he watches. Still he waits...she is
coming...

There!

There she is, looking incongruously small as she clambers awkwardly 
out of the passenger side of a GMC Jimmy. There are others with her, 
but he doesn't see them. He has eyes only for her, the blinding 
radiance of her skin drowning out the meager light of the people 
around her. A shadow passes in front of his sun and he frowns. He 
recognizes that shadow; it is Him, the man who stole his light when 
he came in with weapon drawn and tore her from his clutch. He growls 
in barely contained disgust and annoyance. He hates Him, the clinging 
stain that mars her luminescence. He forces himself to restore his 
calm. The Man is a ghost to him, a memory. He will remove the 
detested leech from her presence and crush it under his heel. 

He watches as they thread their way inside, becoming separated in the 
crush of bodies. His eyes follow her flaming hair as it disappears 
into the shadow of the doorway. Another flash of color catches his 
eye and he focuses his attention on the other female agent that was 
with his angel. 

He smiles fondly at her fumbling attempts to gain entrance, her obvious 
distress at being alone. She is pretty, that one, and so like his 
lady in her bearing and coloring. Yet she is so much less than his 
sun's consuming brilliance, her innocence making a cherub of her. A 
little child sprite in the shadow of his avenging angel...

He sighs, she might be right but how to tell? She doesn't call to him 
like the shopgirl or the nurse. If the opportunity presents itself he 
might take her, but there are other, more important obstacles in the 
way. The Man still stands between himself and happiness...

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

Stop and Shop Boutique
20 minutes outside of Minneapolis

Moira fought the urge to scream in frustration at the two plain
clothes cops whose aimless wandering was blocking her entrance to the 
already cramped crime scene. Bobbing her head to the side, she 
struggled to catch sight of Dana, Mulder, or -god help her- even her 
partner over the crush of the crowd. She thought she saw a flash of 
red that might've been Scully but it was quickly lost in the shifting 
throng before she could properly identify it. Finally she lost her 
grip on the tattered remains of her patience and forced her way 
between the two men.

"Excuse me," She spat in a tone of clipped annoyance as she hurried
past them. Ignoring the somewhat lewd comment one of the men tossed
after her, she turned her concentration towards finding another 
member of her party.

Eventually she reached the entrance to the back storeroom. Flashing
her credentials to the officer at the door she stepped gingerly over
a half congealed puddle of blood to enter. The guard grinned at her
her obvious distaste. Steeling her face into an impenetrable mask, 
she asked if he knew where the other agents that had come through 
were. The man nodded and searched the crowd from his elevated vantage 
for a few minutes before pointing her toward the far corner of the 
room.

"There's the little red head in the back over there. Is this her 
first murder scene too? She don't look so good-"

"Agent Scully is a forensic pathologist; this is emphatically NOT her 
first murder investigation," Blaine said with righteous indignation. 
And then, sheepishly as his words penetrated, "How did you know it 
was mine?" 

He chuckled at her obvious discomfort, "Next time, try not to be so 
obvious about avoiding the blood."

Moira blushed at her rookie mistake and nodded resolutely as she 
headed toward Scully. "I'll keep that in mind."

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

The tide of people washed around her in pulsing waves, tossing her
about like a fractured piece of driftwood. She was drowning in the 
miasma of sweet decay and cigarette smoke that permeated the teeming 
enclosure. Breathe Dana, breathe, she silently commanded herself. She 
sagged in relief when her back hit the welcome support of the wall. 
Her eyes slid shut involuntarily in response to the vile stimuli 
assaulting her senses. 

Dana Scully had stoically presided over countless scenes of garish 
carnage and savage butchery. She had stood unaffected in the face
of atrocities that would have felled a lesser soul, nightmarish 
exhibits of brutality and degradation that tinged the viewer's 
battered perceptions with the feral nature of their debauchery. On
a relative scale with those horrors, this blood soaked crime scene 
only rated lukewarm on the spectrum. Repugnant and abominable, to be 
sure, but not truly memorable within the range of available 
depravities. Normally, she would've had no problem compartmentalizing 
her reaction to the gore splattered walls and mangled remains. Special
Agent Scully, determined profession is on the job; nightmares beware. 
If only this were a normal crime scene instead of a blatant 
reenactment of her own vivid nightmare. If only it didn't seem like 
the corpse was wearing her face...

It. Was. Just. A. Dream. She told her self resolutely, still unable
to open her eyes and face the contradiction of her words. Just a 
dream, a nightmare-dreams-don't-come-true-notlikethisjustadreamjusta-

"Dana? Are you okay?!" The tinge of panicked worry in the 
interrupting voice helped to curtail her own rising hysteria. Her 
eyes popped open and focused determinedly on her cousin.

Say you're fine, Dana. She told herself. Say you're fine and get it
together!

"I'm fine, just a little fatigued from the trip."

Moira looked at her skeptically and place a worried hand at her elbow.
"Are you sure, Dana? You looked like you were going to pass out 
before I got to you-"

"I said I was fine, Agent. And you will refer to me as Agent Scully
when we are on a case. Such familiarity has no place in the work 
environment. Do you understand?"

Blaine recoiled visibly from her sharp tone and removed her hand from
Scully's arm. The hurt in her eyes transformed to an obviously 
feigned detachment when she responded stiffly. "I understand, AGENT 
Scully."

Dana felt a little bad about going off on her like that, but only 
academically. She knew that if Moira told Mulder what she'd seen he'd
have her pulled off this case and on a plane back to D.C. before you
can say mutual-u-f-o-network. This is a textbook example of why they 
don't usually let family members work together: Scully knew all the 
right buttons to push to send Blaine retreating into herself and she 
used them to her advantage. If Moira was trying so hard to be the 
dutiful little Agent-In-Training then there was a good chance she'd 
be too preoccupied to tell Mulder what she saw...

"Good. Have you seen the other two?"

"No, Agent Scully. You were the first one I saw." Moira's use of her
title was stilted and distinctly contrived.

Dana softened remorsefully at the stab. She hadn't meant to hurt 
Moira, just throw her off the scent. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped at
you, this case just has me a little on edge. Let's try to find Mulder
and Carver before they manage to get themselves into trouble, okay?"

Blaine nodded hesitantly at her sudden attitude change and turned to
search the room. "I think I see Mulder; over there by the body..."

Scully followed her gaze. Sure enough, there was Mulder, kneeling
like a supplicant at the manacled feet of the corpse while he 
examined her bindings. She grimaced in disgust when she saw the tail 
of his trench coat sweeping unnoticed through the sticky pools of 
gore all around him. The entire bottom of his coat was already 
stained with the rich brown-red of drying blood and it was obvious
he'd ruined another Armani from the ragged way the stains were 
creeping up his pants leg like some obscene form of kudzu.

"Why is it," she muttered to herself, "that anyone else can examine
a murder scene with relative impunity but Mulder always ends up 
looking like he went swimming in it?" And then, louder for her 
cousin's benefit, "Come on, let's go get him before someone mistakes
him for a suspect."

Moira chuckled and followed her steamroller cousin as she plowed her
way through the crowd to her partner's side.

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

Peripherally, he felt the burning itch of a cramp beginning in the 
calf of his left leg. Pulling himself wearily to his feet, his eyes 
traced the battered remains of the former Miss Donna Lohrum. His 
brilliant mind swirled with theories on patterns of attack and 
behavioral models as he subconsciously catalogued the minute details
of the crime scene. Blinding in its intensity, he felt his mind being 
over run with the thoughts and feelings of the killer as he surveyed
the area. Like lightning the sensations crashed into him: fear, 
power, lust, desire, need...he swayed under the force of their 
assault. Reaching out a hand to steady himself he found his fingers
tracing the line of the corpse's jaw. He knew that he could be 
destroying miniscule trace evidence with his touch, but something
told him that Forensics would find more than enough to verify the 
identity of their killer through out the rest of the store. 

"He doesn't care if we know it's him...he wants us to know," Mulder
whispered to himself as he continued to caress the dead woman's 
cheek. "He's leading us, watching us...waiting for-"

"Mulder?" Scully's worried voice broke into his solitary monologue
but didn't derail it.

"You Scully, he's waiting for you...He's sees your face on every 
woman he kills and feels your presence in the room as he carves up 
his sacrifices... he thinks in you he finds his savior and his 
redemption...his own personal avenging angel..."

Scully felt her skin crawl at his vacant expression and the sing-song 
monotone of his voice during his chilling pronouncement. On a normal 
case she hated what profiling did to Mulder, despised the way he 
bartered pieces of his already battered psyche to pay the ferryman 
for his safe passage into the empty souls of vicious murders and 
sociopaths. But to hear Donnie's hated voice coming from between his 
familiar lips was just more than she could take. Couple that with the 
obscene similarity between the way he was touching the body and the 
way Donnie had touched her in her dream and it was all she could do 
to keep from ripping his hand away from the corrupted flesh and 
dragging them both back to the airport and on the first plane out to 
D.C.

Mulder seemed to come back to himself with that final mumbled 
declaration and with a quick shake of his head he was once again
cognizant of his surroundings. Seeing the ashen pallor of Scully's
face he immediately felt like a bastard for spilling that garbled
mess out in front of her. Like she wasn't having a tough enough time
without you throwing your two scents in, asshole, he thought to 
himself reproachfully. "Scully-"

She could tell from the apologetic tone in his voice that he was 
about to make a scene and beg her forgiveness for his little 
unscheduled foray into the land of Donnie, so she forestalled him
with an upraised hand. "Has anyone seen Carver? I lost sight of
him in the crowd right after we got through the door."

"Nice to know someone missed me," Carver said as he approached
the group from the right. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, and Agent
Blaine, this is Det. Mason."

"Agents." The detective said as he greeted them each in turn,
grimacing slightly in disgust at Mulder's blood spattered appearance. 
Mulder was seemingly oblivious to the man's reaction as he shook his 
hand.

"Detective Mason, finally we meet-" Mulder began sarcastically, but 
the man cut him off by jerking his hand out of his grasp. 

"Look Agent Mulder, you and I are both well aware that I don't want 
you here. We already had an Agent working this case, there was no 
reason for HQ to bring your little traveling circus act in on it. But 
now you're here and I have to deal with you, but it doesn't mean I 
have to like it. So just do your fucking job and stay out of my way 
so I can do mine. Agents," He said with mock civility and a nod at 
the others in parting as he abruptly turned away.

"Once," Mulder said with a sigh, "just once I'd like to see what it's 
like to have the local law enforcement on our side." 

"Maybe someday that might happen if you'd quit antagonizing them 
right off the bat," Scully snapped in annoyance.

Mulder frowned in confusion. "How did I antagonize him? It's not my 
fault he wasn't doing his job. If he'd been following procedure I
wouldn't have had to jump all over him."

"Ha! That's a laugh! Fox Mulder getting on to someone else for not 
following procedure!" Blaine and Carver glanced at each other 
apprehensively; this had the makings of a major battle. Definitely 
not something you wanted happening in the middle of a crime scene... 
"And I haven't seen you be this obviously discourteous to the local 
authorities since Chaney!"

"Scully what is up with you? So I gave the guy a hard time, big deal! 
Hell, after seven years it shouldn't come as a surprise that I'm not 
gonna win 'Mr. Congeniality'!"

"Look guys, as intellectually stimulating as it isn't to stand here 
and listen to you two verbally bash each other, I'd like to point out 
that we do still have a hell of a lot to do before we can settle down 
for the night," Carver pointed out as he stepped between them with 
his hands upraised calmingly. "I don't know about you all but I'd
hate to end up having to spend the night at the prison because we
got finished studying the other scene so late we couldn't get hotel
rooms."

Mulder and Scully glared at each other a minute more before Mulder
looked away and focused his attention on the agent in front of him.
"There must be a wind chill advisory in hell even as we speak." Jack
looked at him questioningly and he answered with a chuckle. "I always 
said hell would freeze over before we got you to exersize some common 
sense."

Jack frowned at him. "That was fucked up, Mulder."

Moira laughed, "Don't be such a baby, Carver. C'mon guys," She said 
as she looped her arm through Scully's and headed toward the door. 
"Let's go see what Forensics found before we head off to the prison." 

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

Scully flipped through the report Forensics had given her as her 
partner skillfully maneuvered their vehicle through the clog of 
traffic. Just as they'd suspected, Donnie had left genetic evidence 
all over the body and the room. She shivered as she remembered the 
chilling words her partner had directed towards her in Donnie's empty 
monotone:  ...he doesn't care if we know it's him...he's waiting for 
you, Scully...

With a tired sigh she took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of 
her nose. A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed that Jack 
and Moira were still right behind them. She rolled her shoulder as 
she looked out the window, trying to release some of the built up 
tension. She was coiled as tightly as a spring. She longed for the 
steady drone of the open highway as they inched along sporadically 
in the press of traffic. "Why are we going so slow?" She softly asked 
with a glance in her partner's direction.

Mulder rubbed his temples with one hand as he answered quietly, 
"There's a big wreck right up ahead at the exit ramps. We should be 
clear of it in a couple minutes." She acknowledged his response with 
a nod and went back to staring out the window. Sure enough, a few 
minutes later the accident was in her line of site. A tractor-trailer 
had hit a Greyhound bus while coming off the ramp. She watched 
silently as firefighters struggled to get the fiery blaze of the 
vehicles under control. Rescue workers swarmed the scene like ants, 
crawling over every available surface as they struggled to tend to 
the people who'd been lucky enough to survive the inferno. One caught 
her eye: a little red headed woman with a heavy braid spilling down 
her back dragged a man over to the closest ambulance. She watch as 
the back of her head as the woman barked commands out to the other 
EMT's, all the while fighting with death for the man's life as she 
practiced emergency first aid. Her braid had fallen to the front of 
her and with an impatient twist she flung it back around to her 
back. Scully gasped in surprise at the sight of the woman's profile; 
they could've been twins! They had the exact same face! A car passed 
between her and her view and when it had gone her attention 
immediately returned to her doppelganger, hoping for another glimpse
of the woman's face. Under her watchful eye, the woman turned again 
to speak to the ambulance worker beside her and Scully frowned. She 
must've been hallucinating before, or maybe it was the distance 
because from this vantage she could see that the woman looked 
absolutely nothing like her. In fact she wondered how she could've 
possibly seen any connection before. The stress must finally be getting
to me, she decided with another sigh as she sank into the cushions of 
her seat.

"What's wrong?" Mulder asked her without taking his eyes off the 
road.

"I was just wondering if I should get out and offer my assistance," 
she lied. "It sure looks like they need the help." 

Mulder glanced at the remains of the accident. "I don't know, Scully. 
It looks like they've pretty much got it under wraps at this point," 
he said as he studied the efficiency of the emergency crews. "We can 
ask the officer directing traffic if you want though..."

She gave a small smile at his offer. She knew he was in a hurry to 
view the other crime scene and get to work on his profile, so the 
offer of delay was moving. She shook her head, "No, you're right. I'm 
sure they'll be fine. Let's just concentrate on getting to the prison 
in one piece." Mulder nodded with relieved acceptance and Scully 
tried to settle down enough for a nap. If only she could stop 
thinking. What was it about that red-haired EMT that bothered her so 
much?


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
















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