From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 10 Aug 2004 20:32:12 -0000
Subject: Pleasure In Pain by Skinfull
Source: direct


BETA IN PROGRESS PART 1 of 6

RATING: NC-17

CLASSIFICATION: X-MT and a side order of chips. 
Rape Scenes and implied CD. Reader discretion advised.

SPOILERS: None 

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no profit, no harm. 
SUMMARY: Mulders profiling skills comes under fire when 
his predictions fall far from the mark putting him and other 
agents in grave danger. (den deh dehhhhhh!)

FEEDBACK: skinfull@undergroundtales.com Love all 
feedback. Thanks in 
Advance!

AUTHORS NOTE'S: This story is a prequel to "In The Name 
Of The Father" I've been writing it for feckin ages and re-
writing it for even longer then that! Thanks Lisa for the Beta 
services (although I added more since she got her hands on it 
and god knows I left out a tonne of comma's and stuff!)

Pleasure In Pain
By Skinfull.

 
The Midnight Motel
5th November
10.23PM
 
Lying in bed, he watched as the rivulets of sweat fought their 
way through the matted hair on his broad chest to pool in the 
curve of his abdomen and curl down the sides of his shorts, 
wetting the flimsy material.  He reached for the glass of 
whiskey on the bedside locker but it was with a shaky hand he 
brought it to his dry lips.  The sour taste enveloped his senses 
as the strong aroma rammed into his flared nostrils and the 
burning sensation trailed a spicy path down his throat.

A neon sign outside the window spelling the motels name 
wrongly, flashed through the dirty thin curtains adding a 
strange orange tint to the rooms' shadows that were evenly 
sliced by the slowly moving fan on the ceiling.  He finished 
the rest of his drink and peeled himself off the damp sheets.  
With one hand, he placed the heavy glass on the locker and 
with the other he pushed the body off his feet and onto the 
floor.

The dull thud did nothing to move him towards the nausea he 
knew he should be feeling; instead he stood and gathered his 
clothes from the floor.  Dressing slowly and meticulously, he 
carefully fastened every button with care.  In the bathroom he 
glanced at the tarnished mirror that hung over the dirt-
blackened sink.  From his back pocket he pulled a comb 
whose teeth had seen better days and began to fix his unruly 
hair.  He wet the comb under the running cold water and 
combed all his hair away from his face.

Finally happy with the result he stepped back into the 
bedroom, slipping the comb back into his pocket.  It wasn't 
the worst hotel he had booked into he was depressed to admit, 
but the en suite was a nice touch.  He glanced down at the 
body and let his eyes wander over the soft curves he had 
admired so much earlier.  Now they did nothing for him, cold 
to the touch and unmoving, he looked away in disgust 
wondering if he should cover it with a sheet.

Stepping over her instead he grabbed her fake fur pink coat 
and rummaged through her pockets.  The bundle of money 
she had asked for up front was tucked neatly into an inside 
breast pocket but he pulled it free and shoved it into his own 
pocket.  More searching brought him a business card for the 
bar she worked at but he tossed it to the floor and watched as 
it fluttered to her chest and landed on her breast.  He smiled at 
the image as he reached for the door and walked out of the 
room locking it behind him.

Buttoning up his long trench coat, he flipped the collar up to 
protect his neck and nodded briefly at the fat receptionist 
whose sole concentration was absorbed in the small black and 
white portable television.  He remembered thinking how the 
receptionist looked like Telly Savalas as he was signing the 
check in book, but the sight of the prostitute he'd picked up in 
Crazy Eights bar, kneading her own breasts as she licked her 
lips quickly dissolved the thoughts.

Now as he sauntered by there was no such distraction and he 
couldn't help but think of Kojak working behind the reception 
at the sleazy motel.  The picture made him smile again 
cushioning him from the blast of cold wet winter air that met 
him on the street.  His hands found their way deep into his 
pockets as he walked down the street folding effortlessly into 
the crowd.
 
***
 
FBI Basement Office
5th November
11.45PM

Dammit! Dana Scully thought as she spied the late hour on 
the clock across the office.  She slapped her hand on her desk 
and the sharp noise resonated around the empty room.  
"Dammit all to hell", she mused angrily as she powered down 
her computer and shoved a few folders into her briefcase.  
Latching it closed she shook her head at her automatic routine 
when she knew she wouldn't even take the case out of her car 
when she got home.

Pulling her jacket on quickly she grabbed the now heavy case 
and switched off the desk lamp.  The room plunged into 
darkness but it did nothing to impede her escape as she 
sidestepped her desk, and with an almost psychic ability she 
dodged the trashcan before reaching the relative safety of the 
narrow hallway.

She ducked under a protruding box on the shelves that 
claimed most of the space in the corridor and walked past the 
elevator to take the stairs to the FBI Garage.  Her car was 
spotted easily in the all but empty garage and she dropped her 
case unceremoniously into the trunk.  The car was cold so she 
cranked the heating up full catching the time on the dashboard 
read half eleven and she realised it had been sixteen hours 
since she had parked it there that morning.  With another 
derisive grunt she pulled swiftly out into the Thursday night 
traffic and willed her body to relax.

The drive home was simple enough but gathering the will to 
make food, run a bath or even change into her bed clothes 
seemed all beyond her reach.  She slicked the apartment door 
lock into place and walked through the living room without 
turning on any lights.  She toed off her shoes as she made her 
way through the hall and draped her coat over the sideboard.  
Hearing it slip to the floor she ignored the soft sound and 
continued on into her bedroom.  She stripped quickly and let 
her clothes pool on the floor without another thought.  Pulling 
back the sheets she shivered as their cool fingers reached out 
to her skin, but she held fast letting them warm up.

Heavy eyelids blinked slowly but refused to remain shut and 
her frown crease deepened.  Teetering over the edge of sleep 
her body seemed unwilling to fall over the sheer drop of 
slumber and she tossed and turned.  Frustrated now she 
persisted, but her pure determination became the one thing 
that held her back.  But then suddenly her eyes drooped of 
their own violation and she felt her body relaxing, her head 
sinking further into the pillow and the clenched hand beneath 
her chin unfurl slowly.

Then it was all whipped away by the loud penetrating ring of 
her phone.  Jerking in the bed she scrunched her body into a 
small ball urging the obnoxious sound to go away.  One 
mutinous hand reached out from under the covers and snaked 
over to the phone, pulling it back to her ear.
 
"Yeah," she breathed into it sleepily.
 
"Did I wake you?"  His voice was full of amusement but it 
only made her mad.
 
"Yeah."
 
"Sorry Scully."  She didn't detect a hint of sorrow in his tone 
but she was too tired to point it out.
 
"What do you want Mulder?"
 
"I was wondering if you were going to make an appearance 
today."
 
"What?"  She suddenly became aware of how bright the room 
was.
 
"Are you sick?"
 
"Sick? No.  What time is it?"
 
"It's a little after ten."

She shot bolt up, letting the covers fall down past her waist.  
Sun streamed in through the open blinds alerting her to the 
mid morning hour. Mulder chuckled at the various choice 
words he heard her mutter beneath the rustle of the bed sheets.
 
"There must have been a power cut. My alarm didn't go off."
 
"Take your time Scully, I just wanted to make sure you were 
okay."
 
"I'm fine Mulder. I'll be there in half an hour."

She hung up and threw the phone on the unmade bed as she 
rushed over to the bathroom.  Dammit, she thought when the 
water pooled in her hands and she splashed it on her face. 
 
***
 
FBI Basement Office
6th November
11.20AM

Mulder sipped his third cup of coffee and read his report over 
again.  With a slim #2 pencil he jotted down comments in the 
margin and flipped over to the next page.  Even with his mind 
engrossed the tinny ding of the elevator penetrated his 
concentration and tugged his lips into a small smile. It took 
some effort to get rid of it but he did just as she walked in.

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was already 
wearing her glasses. He noticed immediately how tired she 
looked but thought better than to comment on it.  Offering 
him a wan smile, she took her seat and dropped her case 
heavily onto the desk knocking over a cup of pens.
"Dammit," she said for the umpteenth time that day, standing 
to pick them up and shove them back into the bureau branded 
mug.
 
"Bad day Scully?" he ventured; his voice suspiciously neutral.
 
"I couldn't sleep last night."
 
"Oh?"
 
"It seemed like seconds between me climbing into bed and 
you calling me."
 
"Oh I know that feeling."  He stood up and walked around his 
desk as he spoke.  "Let me get you a coffee."  He walked out 
stealthily but soon returned and left the cup of strong coffee 
by her side.  Back at his desk he resumed work on the report 
and soon had the new version typed and printed.  It was well 
after lunch before he realised how much time had passed and 
as if his stomach just noticed the late hour it grumbled 
hungrily.
 
"Did you get the autopsy report finished?" he called over to 
her, speaking for nearly the first time since she arrived.
 
"Yeah, it should be printing now," she answered without 
looking up.

Mulder turned his chair towards the printer to see it quickly 
spitting out the pages. He gathered them up and aligned them 
with the rest of the report before slipping them into the manila 
folder.  Grabbing his pen he signed his name at the end of the 
printed page and ambled over to her desk to let her sign it.
 
"Here, sign this and we can go for lunch."
 
"Lunch? What time is it?" she asked as she signed her name 
next to his.
 
"It's just coming up to two." Mulder slipped into his jacket 
and checked he had his keys and wallet before collecting the 
folder and rifling through its contents once more.  "We can 
drop this off at Skinner's on the way."

With a sigh she pulled her weary body up and followed him to 
the elevator.  Her legs felt as though she was wearing cinder 
blocks instead of the black-strapped shoes she'd hurriedly put 
on that morning.  Her neck didn't feel strong enough to hold 
up her head and she rolled it around as if testing it.  Mulder 
dropped the folder into Kim with a smile and met Scully back 
in the corridor where she was drinking feverishly from the 
water fountain.
 
"You okay Scully? You don't look so hot."
 
"I think I'm coming down with something," she admitted.
 
"Flu?"
 
"Probably.  Right time of year."  Straightening up she 
stumbled against him and only his arm snatching her waist 
kept her upright.
 
"C'mon I'll drive you home." He led her through the corridors 
not listening to her weak protests.
 
"I don't need to go home Mulder, I think I just stood up too 
quickly."

But as they stepped out into the garage she felt another wave 
of dizziness wash over her.
"Whoa Scully...you nearly went down then," he muttered 
holding her tighter, closer until he managed to get her seated 
into his car.  She protested again as he climbed in the other 
side but he waved his hand in front of her face. "Look Scully 
it's ten past two on a Friday afternoon.  It'll be Monday 
before Skinner calls us about the report."
 
"Okay Mulder."
 
"Wow you must be sick," he chortled under his breath but she 
had rested her head against the window and was already 
asleep.  She stayed like that throughout the whole journey, not 
even moving when he stopped at the pharmacy to get 
supplies.  

At her apartment she woke just enough to walk in with him.  
She went straight into her bedroom as he unpacked the goods 
in the kitchen.  When she returned to him with her bedclothes 
and wearing a thick robe, he was stirring chicken soup in a 
saucepan waiting for it to heat up.
 
"Chicken soup?"
 
"Chicken Soup a la Mulder!" he replied smiling.  "Go and sit 
down.  I'll bring it in to you."

Silently she went into the living room and began to flick 
through the numerous daytime shows on the television.  
Finally settling on a show about genetic research on the 
Discovery channel, she settled back and was surprised to see 
Mulder hovering over her with a bowl in his hand.
 
"Thanks Mulder."  He disappeared into the kitchen and 
returned with a plate of bread to go with her soup and an 
armful of medicines.
 
"I didn't know which..."
 
"So you got them all?" she said smiling at the sight of the 
copious flavoured lozenge's, lemon drinks and balsam tissues.  
"Thanks Mulder."
 
"No problem.  I'm going to head back but I'll drop in to see 
you later.  I'll bring dinner too if you want."
 
"Sounds good."

He watched her longingly for a moment before turning on his 
heel and closing the door softly behind him.
 
***
 
FBI Headquarters Main Entrance
6th November
2.12PM
 
Mulder walked through the hallway running a hand through 
his damp hair.  The light rain had suddenly become heavier as 
he walked from the car.  He entered the empty communal 
break room and poured a cup a cup of coffee.  Leaning back 
against the counter he basked in the heat as he sipped the 
black sour drink.
 
"Agent Mulder."

Glancing up he spotted AD Douglas peering in the doorway, a 
wary expression on his face.  For a moment he watched 
Mulder then walked into the room and took a seat at the centre 
table.
 
"I was hoping to have a chat with you."
 
"A chat?" Mulder blew a breath of air over his drink in a 
futile effort to cool it down before taking a sip.
 
"Yeah." Douglas' eyes flittered around the room and Mulder 
wondered how this nervous man had made AD.  "We have a 
murder scene.  A victim, witness' description but no prints."
 
"You want me to profile?"
 
"I understand you've recently finished a case." Douglas said, 
but Mulder noticed how he skipped his question.
 
"Yes we have."
 
"I was hoping you would take lead on this case."
 
"Lead? You don't want just a profile?" Mulder wasn't able to 
keep the surprise out of his voice.
 
"You're surprised Agent Mulder." Douglas' eyes locked with 
his.  "You and Agent Scully have quite an impressive solve 
rate."
 
"Yes on the Xfiles."
 
"Well I wouldn't mind some of it in my department." Douglas 
stood, one of his hands still touching the table and now that he 
was standing to his full height Mulder found himself standing 
eye to eye with the unassuming AD.  "I'll send the file down 
and you can let me know."

AD Douglas smiled and walked out leaving a surprised 
Mulder in his wake.  
 
Refilling his coffee he made his way down to the basement 
where he settled into the familiar slant of his chair.  With his 
feet up on the table the shocking and sudden sound from his 
phone startled him nearly making his drop his drink but he 
recovered quickly and picked up the receiver.  
 
"Mulder."
 
"Agent Mulder.  I just spoke to AD Douglas." Skinner's 
powerful voice bellowed down the phone.
 
"I had a few words with him myself."
 
"About the case?"
 
"Well he didn't give me any details."
 
"I wanted to give you a heads up but it seems I was too late."
 
"Do you know why he asked for me sir?"
 
"Well you are one of the best investigators in the bureau 
Mulder.  Maybe it was about time they realised it."

Mulder was stunned into silence by his boss's frankness and 
didn't have time to reply as Skinner hung up and there was a 
light rap on the door.
 
"Agent Mulder?" A young brunette with tumbling curls and a 
just beyond regulation short skirt ambled slowly into the 
room, her dark eyes skimming the busy surfaces of the walls 
before finally resting on it's occupant. "Ad Douglas asked me 
to deliver this to you."
 
"Thanks."  Mulder took the folder out of her outstretched 
hand and placed it on the table before him.
 
"I understand you'll be taking lead." Her words were a 
statement meant for him to agree with and he had the feeling 
she wasn't used to it otherwise.
 
"It's not definite."
 
"I pieced this case together over the last sixteen months.  If it 
wasn't for me there would be no case."
 
"I don't intend to step on any ones toes Agent...eh?"
 
"Agent Blake." She offered no such personal information as 
her first name so Mulder didn't press for answers.
 
"AD Douglas asked me about this case not ten minutes ago so 
my decision hasn't been made."
 
"You're used to getting your own way aren't you Agent 
Mulder.  Got a nice number going on here.  But let me tell you 
this-"
 
"Agent Blake, I don't think you realise my situation-"
 
"Right now I realise your situation is to pull this case out from 
under me after all the hours of work I put into the profile...I 
don't intend to let that happen."

She turned around without offering him the chance to respond 
and walked out of the cramped basement office, slamming the 
door behind her.  Mulder stared after her in astonishment for a 
moment until finally his mind regrouped and he opened the 
folder that rested before him.

It wasn't long before the coffee stood cold and forgotten 
beside him as his eyes scanned the photos of the murder scene 
and his fingers raced along the typed pages of the reports.  
The motel room was photographed in great detail and the 
description of the suspect from the receptionist was 
meticulous. 

Mulder couldn't quite understand why AD Douglas had asked 
him to take lead, as the case seemed a simple detective one, 
until he read Agent Blake's proposal. She outlined a series of 
physical attacks on prostitutes that she had been logging and 
summarised that this killer and that attacker were one and the 
same.

He admired her leap in logic and read her file with more 
concentration as he followed her connections reporting 
physical abuse to the murder scene.  He couldn't help but 
agree and wondered briefly if Douglas had asked him to take 
lead because he didn't.  Deciding he needed to look for 
himself, Mulder slipped on his jacket and rushed out of the J 
Edgar building with the folder tucked neatly under his arm.
 
***
 
The Midnight Motel
6th November
3.15PM

The motel was a beacon in a desolate street flashing vacancies 
and en suite rooms as if it were providing a service on a 
nightly rate rather than the hourly customers he was sure paid 
the way.

Mulder walked by the reception desk flashing his badge at the 
cop on duty who was talking to the check in guy, and he 
stepped into the elevator with a stray thought as to the 
resemblance of the receptionist to Telly Savalas.  On the third 
floor he spotted the room immediately as the police tape clung 
to the door way announcing it's caution.  The seal had already 
been broken but he thought nothing of it as he entered and 
surveyed the empty room.  White tape marked the area where 
the body had been found.  Evidence markers replaced small 
objects that had been taken for further analysis.  Mulder guess 
it was a glass tumbler by the watermarks it had left behind on 
the bedside locker but he flipped the file open to read the rest 
of the items.

Yellow magnesium phosphate powder dusted the television 
buttons and the window latches where the forensic team had 
searched for fingerprints.  The taps and the sink were also 
lightly covered but the sheet from the bed had been taken 
away.  
 
"So you're going to take it?"

He whipped around at the sound of the voice but was relieved 
to see Agent Blake standing in the doorway her revealing skirt 
hidden beneath a black long trench coat.
"I haven't decided," he admitted turning away from her and 
becoming engrossed in the file.
 
"And yet here you are...in my murder scene." He heard her 
footsteps but didn't turn to see her progress.
 
"Serial murder...escalating serial killer."
 
"You read my file?" she stepped into the room and crossed to 
the dingy window.
 
"It was included in the case file."
 
"Don't you think my findings are valid?" she asked turning to 
face him and leaning against the window ledge.  Mulder 
couldn't help but glance down to her leg that peeked out from 
the coat as it parted on her thigh.
 
"I would need to study those individual cases before I could 
agree to a pattern like that."
 
"In New York I'd have this guy behind bars by now."
 
"Sorry?" Intrigued, Mulder closed the folder and looked up to 
her with interest putting some effort on keeping his eyes of 
her bared knee.
 
"I'm only a recent transfer to DC.  To the bureau for that 
matter."
 
"Oh?" was all he could manage to say kicking himself for not 
checking out her personnel file.
 
"Up until a year ago I was Detective Alex Blake...and now..."
 
"Special Agent Alex Blake," he finished for her but she didn't 
seem to be bothered by the title only by her frustrations. 
"Why?"
 
"I was recruited...profiler."  Walking around the room she 
fingered various objects and spoke in a low tone as if her 
mind was elsewhere. "I worked in the New York office for a 
while with AD. Barns, then when he got a transfer to 
Washington last summer he requested me to join him."
 
"And now you're working with AD. Douglas."
 
"Yeah. But we don't quite see eye to eye on most things."
"I figured."
 
"So he's drafted you in." her eyes suddenly darted up to his 
and she challenged him with her gaze.
 
"He's asked for my assistance."
 
"Don't give me that crap Agent Mulder." All of a sudden she 
was facing him, standing merely a foot apart with her hands 
on her hips her coat fell to her sides revealing her outfit. "He's 
asked you to take lead."
 
"Yes he has," Mulder confirmed.
 
"Is it some kind of macho shit?" she accused angrily. "The 
mans club! No women allowed?"
 
"Eh no," Mulder answered with a chuckle but it only made 
her frown deeper.  "Don't you know who I am?"
 
"I don't give a shit who you are! I don't give a shit if you are J 
Edgar's love child.  This is my case."  Her voice was taking 
on a timbre he didn't expect from her but he couldn't get the 
smile off his face.
 
"I'm Agent Fox Mulder."
 
"Yeah...I know..."
 
"Fox Mulder? Spooky Mulder?" he offered blandly waiting to 
see the flicker of recognition but it never came.
 
"Look I really don't care to hear any of your mother's pet 
names, but just get this straight.  Even if you do take lead on 
this case, I'm working it."

Shocked into silence it was all he could do to watch her storm 
out of the room, the sway of her coat disguising the curves of 
her body but not the anger in her stride.  With a shake of his 
head Mulder gave the room a final glance before walking out 
and sealing the door behind him.
 
***
 
The Staggs Head Bar
6th November
6.34PM
 
"So what do they call you honey?" she asked with a low sultry 
tone as she removed the olive from her martini and wet her 
lips with the liquid on it's oily skin.
 
"Jake."
 
"I love that name."  She bit the olive with slow sensuous 
movements letting him know exactly what was on her mind 
but then the hand she was sliding up his thigh was doing most 
of the talking. 
 
"I bet you do."

He watched her from the reflection in the mirror behind the 
bar with glasses and bottles obscuring his view, but he didn't 
mind; he could see all he needed to.  Her garishly red painted 
nails were long and scratched his leg mercilessly and her thick 
dark brown hair was curled tightly on her head with only a 
few stray strands brushing her neck.  She wore a black 
sequined halter top with a low neckline bearing all but the 
final prize to him and a skirt that was high enough to let her 
pink panties peek through teasingly.

Jake lifted the glass to his lips and drained the beer in one 
long swallow.  Stepping off the stool he dropped a few bills 
onto the bar and turned to face her as he smoothed down the 
front of his shirt.  She watched him back with a wary gaze 
before he muttered.
 
"Shall we go?" he growled it low and without moving his lips 
but it was all the encouragement she needed.  Pulling her bag 
over her shoulder she slipped off the stool and grabbed his 
arm.
 
"I thought you'd never ask."

The motel she picked was just down the block and she held 
his arm tightly, dragging him through the wet streets in 
silence.  As he signed the book he glanced at the receptionist 
to see what old TV star would be serving him today but to his 
disappointment the elderly Asian man reminded him of no-
one.  

In the room a double bed was pushed up against the wall and 
it was covered in a threadbare blanket that Jake guessed was 
hiding a multitude of mattress sins.  But a warm hand inching 
it's way down his chest tore his mind back to the matters at 
hand.  He watched as red nails struggled to undo his shirt 
buttons, a smile curving on his lips when he heard her lips 
clucking in concentration.  Then without warning her hands 
curled around each seam and she ripped it open, buttons 
flying across the room as they were torn off the shirt, 
exposing his chest.
 
"You stupid bitch!" he snatched her wrists away from him and 
tossed her towards the bed.  Examining his shirt more closely 
he spied the small rips where the buttons had been sewed on 
and frowned.
 
"Jake...I-"
 
"You ripped my fucking shirt."  He glared at her and she 
suddenly became afraid of the emptiness behind his ice blue 
eyes.  Stepping towards her with his hands loose by his sides 
her fear intensified.
 
"I want to leave."
 
"I know."  He reached the bed and kneeled on the end of it 
trapping her legs between his knees. "Scared?" His question 
was asked so evenly with no inflection from his voice that she 
wasn't even sure if it was a question.
 
"Leave me alone...I want to leave."  He leaned down and 
placed his hands on the mattress either side of her head, 
effectively pinning her.  Her eyes were brimming with fearful 
unshed tears and her lips quivered.  He could feel her 
squirming beneath him but it only made him hold onto her 
tighter, crushing her between his knees.
"Jake that hurts...please let me go!"

Jake pulled off her flimsy top wrenching it over her head but 
trapping her hands there in the material.  She moved against 
him trying to get free but it made no difference.  He made 
short work of her skirt pulling it up to circle her waist and 
pulled her underwear down and off her flinging it to the floor.
 
"No let me go."
 
"You want this..."

Kneeling over her he removed his shirt and she spied the thin 
scarring cuts that marked his broad chest.  Smiling wide, 
showing off his gleaming teeth, he leaned down to her again 
kissing her neck and shoulders.  She couldn't help but respond 
to his warm lips but when he bit into her shoulder tightening 
his grip like a vice, she screamed.  A hand clamped over her 
mouth to muffle the sound but he continued to bite down 
tasting the sour metallic blood in his mouth.  Pulling away he 
licked the fresh wound and gazed into her face.  She had paled 
beneath her makeup and her eyes were wide with shock and 
pain.
 
"Does it hurt?" he asked quizzically and she nodded beneath 
his hand.  Slowly he released the grip on her mouth and 
leaned back on his haunches.  He started to undo his trousers 
never letting his eyes leave her face.
 
"What are you doing?" she whispered into the silence as he 
stepped away from her and removed the rest of his clothes.
 
"Does it hurt?" he asked again glancing down at the fleshy 
bite mark that marred her pale skin.
 
"Yes."
 
"I feel it when it hurts." He climbed over her again 
positioning his body carefully to hold her in place.  Spreading 
her legs as far as her hips would allow he leaned over her with 
his hands by her head again.
 
"Feel what?"
 
"The pain and the pleasure."  He kissed her shoulders again 
making his way down to her breasts and she stilled herself 
against him waiting for the onslaught of his teeth, the sharp 
pain to assault her senses.
 
"You can feel my pain?"
 
"No but your pain helps me feel my pleasure."  He thrust into 
her with one sharp movement and she yelled out at the sudden 
invasion.  When he didn't move again she thought he had 
changed his mind, but all too suddenly he moved against her 
pushing harder and harder.  He pulled the top off her hands 
releasing her long nails to push against his chest as she tried to 
get away.
 
"Stop Jake you're hurting me!" she cried out hoping the sound 
of his name would help him realise what he was doing.
 
"So hurt me back!"  Her nails raked against his chest scraping 
the skin but he smiled at her feeble attempt.  He stopped 
moving against her and pulled away turning to reach for 
something on the floor.  Shocked at the sudden withdrawal, 
she backed away on the bed but found herself against the wall.  
Jake turned back to face her a wicked smile on his face and he 
pulled her feet to get her flat on the mattress again.  Crawling 
over her again he pressed into her with a ferocity she wasn't 
prepared for and she cried out again, beating panic stricken on 
his chest.   Leaning up she bit into his flesh and he groaned 
with pleasure.
"Here...use this."

In one hand he held out an open straight blade to her hand 
giving her the handle.  She stared at it for a moment unsure of 
what to do until her eyes roamed over his chest again taking in 
the scars.  With a swift sideway swiping motion she dragged it 
across his chest cutting him thinly but drawing blood.  His 
rhythm sped up with each swipe she took and she could feel 
the tension in his thighs building.  Blood dripped onto her 
chest but he didn't seem to notice, his eyes closed and his 
brow furled.   As his thrusting sped up, his hands crept up 
towards her neck and circled the delicate skin his thumbs 
pressing into her larynx.  She gasped in pain and swiped 
harder at his chest the cuts deeper now and the blood flow 
stronger.

Coughing and wheezing for air she stabbed his chest and side 
but as his climax approached he seemed oblivious to the pain, 
her need for oxygen outweighing her curiosity.  But as she 
blacked out and her arms fell limply to her side she felt him 
pushing inside her once more then stilling.  The pressure on 
her throat didn't lessen and finally she gave in falling into the 
darkness that beckoned her.

Jake shook her once more ensuring all the life had been 
strangled out of her before pulling away and stepping off the 
bed.  He looked down at her and then at his chest smiling at 
the cuts and stabs that covered his body.  Walking into the 
bathroom he stared at his bloodied torso in the mirror and 
smiled again.  The pleasure was fading from his senses all to 
rapidly but there was nothing he could do to prolong it so he 
just tried to enjoy it, the rush gripping him with claw like 
hold.

Running the cold water from the taps he rinsed his hands on a 
small face towel before washing the blood off his chest.  As 
the rough material from the towel rubbed his chest, the skin 
seemed to meld together the cuts healing into thin white lines 
on his skin.  The pleasure was gone and all that remained 
were the scars.  

In the bedroom he draped the wet towel over her stilled chest 
and when he removed it no traces of his blood remained.  He 
dressed and his shirt hung open with no buttons to fasten so he 
pulled on his jacket and buttoned it up tightly.  Taking the 
blade from her loose dead grip, Jake closed it and slipped it 
into his pocket.  He grabbed her bag from the floor where she 
dropped it and searched it.  He pulled out a roll of cash and 
dumped the bag on the bed beside her.  Glancing at her once 
more Jake turned to leave, all traces of his smile vanished as 
he exited the building and hurried down the street.
 
***
 
Georgetown Apartments
6th November
7.04PM

Dana Scully curled her feet beneath the heavy woollen 
blanket and rotated her ankles languorously.  The daze from 
her sleep was slowly lifting leaving her in a warm cocoon on 
her couch.  Glancing around she saw the news was on the 
television and the room was dark.  She could just make out 
the clock telling her it was just past seven pm. and she smiled.  
Sitting up she pushed the blanket off her and went into the 
kitchen to boil the kettle.  The hot lemon drink was infusing to 
her senses and lightly burned her tongue as she sipped on it 
but her blocked nose blunted the smell.  Her head was 
swimming and she was weak even after the long nap but she 
took more Tylenol for her temperature and hoped she'd be 
okay by Monday.  

She was standing in the kitchen rinsing out the mug when 
Mulder knocked at her door with a tuneful rhythm.  She 
opened the door and he breezed past whistling, laying the 
aromatic smelling bags he carried out on the kitchen table.
 
"Hey Scully how are you feeling?"
 
"A little stuffed up but I'm okay."
 
"Hungry?"  He reached into the bags and left the Chinese 
cartons out before turning to reach for plates from the press.
 
"A bit."  
"Feed a cold, starve a flu...or is it the other way round?"
 
"Who cares this smells great."  Taking her laden plate into the 
living room, Scully sat on the end of the couch and carefully 
balanced her dinner on her knee.  Mulder left his on the coffee 
table and returned to the kitchen to get two glasses of wine.
 
"I know you shouldn't be drinking Scully but hey, live a 
little."  Smiling she took the glass and had a taste before 
resting it on the floor by her feet.
 
"So what have you been up to all evening?"
 
"Wait till you hear this."
 
"What? What happened?" she asked her curiosity stirred as 
her dinner lay forgotten on her lap and she turned to face him 
more fully.
 
"I had a visit from AD Douglas." He spoke before taking a 
mouthful of food and let his pause for effect take hold.
 
"Douglas? He's been made Assistant Director?"
 
"He's running a department heading up a new serial killer 
case."
 
"Wait let me guess...he wants a profile from you?"
 
"He wants me to take lead," he admitted before biting into a 
spring roll.
 
"Lead?"
 
"He wants us both on the case with me taking lead."
 
"Lead?"
 
"Yes Scully, Lead investigator.  I can pick who I want for the 
team."
 
"Is it an Xfile?" she asked cautiously.
 
"Not as far as I can tell." He bit into his prawn crackers with 
relish.
 
"So why is he picking you?"
 
"Us."
 
"Us then."
 
"He said he's been following our work and he is impressed 
with our solve rate."  Scully snorted but it turned into a fit of 
coughing, her congested chest arguing against the intake of 
air.  "Take it easy Scully we're not that bad."
 
"So what's the case like?" taking a sip of wine to soothe her 
throat.
 
"Prostitute murdered at the Midnight Motel."
 
"One murder I thought you said this was a serial?"
 
"One Murder so far."
 
"What makes you think there could be more?" The food was 
getting cold but neither of them seemed to notice as Mulder 
told her about the crime scene.
 
"Agent Blake has been tracking a series of assault charges on 
call girls across the east coast and she believes that the same 
man has escalated to murder."
 
"Agent Blake?"
 
"She works under AD Douglas."
 
"Why isn't she taking lead?" Scully asked trying not to sound 
too curious at the mention of the female agent.
 
"That I'm not sure of.  But she is pissed at me for thinking 
about taking it."
 
"Are you?"
 
"Well I was speaking to Skinner and we are between cases 
right now."

She recognised immediately the glint in his eye that he always 
had on the eve of a new case.  The raw information swirling in 
his mind waiting to be pieced together into some pattern only 
he would decipher.
 
"So when do we start."
 
"Monday.  I want you to take the weekend to get better and 
we'll start Monday.  I'll get the legwork started."
 
"I'm fine Mulder. I can start straight away."
 
"No Scully.  Take the weekend.  You look pretty rough and I 
know you're dying to get to bed."

He took both of their finally empty plates into the kitchen and 
scraped the remains of the food into the bin.  Clearing away 
the mess he went back to the couch and was slipping on his 
jacket when she looked up at him.
 
"You're leaving?" she asked in surprise. 
 
"Yes. And you're going to bed.  Get some rest Scully I'll see 
you on Monday.  Call me if you need anything over the 
weekend."
 
"Thanks Mulder. And thanks for dinner."  She waved 
goodbye from her vantage point on the couch knowing full 
well he's be knee deep in file folders before midnight.
 
***
 
FBI Research Library
6th November
10.13PM
 
As usual in the library, Mulder found himself alone and 
surrounded by taunting knowledge.  Books that held back 
their secrets from his tired eyes as he trawled through the old 
files searching for a pattern, a hint as to what was happening.  
An air of tight desperation hung in the air making him feel hot 
and bothered. He loosened his tie pulling the knot so low it 
hung in the middle of his chest.

Standing up from the table he walked over to the small 
window and opened it as far as he could to let a rush of cold 
night air in, but it had no effect. The impending sense of 
failure was fixed heavily above his head and he couldn't seem 
to shake and the further on in his profile he got the worse it 
became.  Mulder slowly made his way back to the desk where 
the case was waiting for his attention.

The assault victims were laid out before him and he looked at 
the pictures taking in the battered faces of the women before 
him.  Swollen cheeks, black eyes and bruised throats all stared 
back at him until he reached the photo of the most recent 
murder victim.

Her brown curly hair fanned out behind her head and he could 
almost believe she was asleep if it wasn't for the bruised 
crushed throat and half closed eyes.  
 
"Melissa Horton," he said aloud picking up the photo and 
bringing it closer.  "What did you see Melissa?"
 
"You know they say it's a fine line between genius and 
insanity."

Startled Mulder reached for his gun but held it back when he 
saw Alex Blake standing at the other end of the table.  She 
slowly walked towards him and came round to his side of the 
table to see all the work he had spread out before him.
 
"I passed that line a long time ago."  Leaning back in his chair 
Mulder rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes and brushed 
his fingers through his hair.
 
"So do you see my pattern?"
 
"I see how you made a pattern but I'm not sure I agree with 
it."
 
"Why the hell not?" she barked out angrily pulling out the 
chair next to him and sat down as she gathered the files and 
sorted through them.
 
"Your conjecture at a pattern because all the victims were 
raped and strangled isn't enough.  Most rape cases have 
strangulation in them and I find it hard to consolidate your 
theory when you have little else to go on."
 
"See this?" she showed him a picture of a woman who had 
been bitten on the shoulder.  The teeth marks bruised the skin 
but didn't break it.  "They were found on four of the six 
victims."
 
"I'm not saying that the same guy didn't commit these 
attacks, but it doesn't mean he killed this woman.  There were 
no other teeth marks on her body."
 
"But the bruised finger markings around the throat was the 
same size and depth as the other victims." 
 
"I think you're reaching Agent Blake.  I think it would be best 
if we concentrated on the murder scene we have before we 
start looking for another."
 
"You're wrong Agent Mulder."  She seemed so convinced.  
Her voice was clear and even, he almost believed her.  "I'm 
surprised at you."
 
"Me? Why?" turning he found her looking at him with a 
crooked smile.
 
"Spooky Mulder.  I thought you'd believe any theory."

"So you have heard."  Mulder sighed wearily as he stood to 
pick up his notes.  He gathered the files into several folders 
and shuffled the photos into his case.
 
"After what you said I had to do some digging around.  I 
know you did the same regarding me."  She indicated the 
personnel file he had pulled up and printed on her and smiled 
at her observation.
 
"So I guess we're even."  She watched him pack away his 
things for a moment.
 
"You're taking the case aren't you." Statement not a question.
 
"Yes."
 
"I told you I'm still going to work on it, whether you pick me 
for the team or not."
 
"That's fine by me Agent Blake, but I'd rather have you on 
my side."
 
"Great." Standing she reached out her hand to him and he 
shook it firmly.
 
"I know we'll probably be-" he began but the urgent sound of 
someone calling his name stalled his words and thoughts.
 
"Agent Mulder, Agent Mulder." The door slammed open and 
the footsteps followed the voice into the library still calling 
out his name. "I have a message from AD Douglas."
 
"What is it?" Mulder dropped Blake's hand and stepped 
around to the panting messenger.
 
"There has been another murder."
 
"Where?" He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on with his 
overcoat as he ushered the messenger out the door. 
 
"Body was found in a room at the Raven Hut Motel on 
Delaware Street."
 
"Contact Douglas and tell him I'm on my way." Mulder 
rushed through the building and was standing by his car when 
he noticed Agent Blake had followed him. 
 
"No point in taking two cars."
 
Raven Hut Motel
6th November
10.58PM

The roads were empty and they found their way to the motel 
easily.  Parking on the street between two squad cars they 
both jumped out and raced into the now busy building.  Cops 
littered the lobby and Mulder glanced at the receptionist 
wondering which old TV star was monitoring the guests at 
this motel but he was distracted by the sound of Douglas 
calling out to him.
 
"Caucasian female found strangled in room 212." The three of 
them walked up the stairs and made their way to the small 
bedroom.  The body was still laying naked on the bed her 
arms down by her sides and her eyes half closed hiding only 
deadness.  
 
"See these bite marks?" Agent Blake reached one latex gloved 
hand out to the victims shoulder and traced the cut with her 
finger pointing it out to Mulder with a knowing glance.
 
"Get it tested and measured against the others." Turning away 
from Agent Blake he walked over to the officer who called 
the bureau.  "What does the receptionist say?" Mulder asked 
him.
 
"She came in with a guy. Average looking.  Short hair 
medium height and build."
 
"Do we know who she is?"
 
"Honey Windshackle.  Well at least that's who she was 
known as."
 
"To who?"
 
"The patrons at the Stag's Head bar down the street."
 
"Okay when you're finished with that body get it down to 
Quantico marked for Dr Scully."
 
"Yes sir."

Mulder stepped out of the room and after a brief chat with 
AD. Douglas, he made his way out of the motel.  Agent Blake 
caught up with him on the street and was pulling the latex 
gloves off when he turned to see who was following him.
 
"See my pattern now?"
 
"I might."
 
"Don't give away too much will you Agent Mulder."

The bar was still full when they entered and the patrons took 
little or no notice of their presence.  Mulder threaded his way 
through the crowd and leaned on the bar.  The barman turned 
to him and wiped the area in front of him.
 
"What'll it be?"
 
"I'm looking for someone who might know Honey 
Windshackle?"

The barman looked him up and down taking in the pressed 
Armani suit and blue shirt.  The black tie and the neat haircut 
just didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the crowd who were 
mostly sporting jeans and tee shirts.
"Honey is busy tonight.  Call back tomorrow and she might 
squeeze you in."
 
"She was in here tonight?"
 
"Yeah she left hours ago."
 
"Did you see who she left with?"
 
"Who are you her father?" the bar man said with a chuckle.
 
"No I'm FBI." Mulder pulled his badge out and glanced over 
to Agent Blake who was displaying her badge too. "Ms 
Windshackle's body was found in a motel across the street."
 
"She's dead?" the burly man took a step back and paled at the 
news. 
 
"Did you see the guy she left with?"
 
"Yeah he was a regular looking guy.  Short hair neatly 
dressed. Never seen him in here before."

"Any distinguishing marks? Tattoos? Piercings?"
 
"No, none of that.  He didn't look the type."
 
"They never do. What was he wearing?"
 
"Grey trousers and a black and white checked shirt...I didn't 
pay real close attention."
 
"Do you think you could recognise him from a photo fit?" 
Blake grilled suddenly stepping forward her arm pressing 
against Mulders.
 
"Yes I would."
 
"I'll send an Agent round as soon as I can sir."
 
"My shift ends in an hour but I'll be here for another two after 
that."
 
"Okay sir.  Thank you for your help. If you think of anything 
please call me at this number?" Mulder passed his card across 
the bar and nodded at the barman but before he could turn to 
leave the large man shook his head with a sigh.
 
"I dunno if it means anything but the guy was real fussy about 
his drinking glass."
 
"Fussy?"
 
"He made me clean it twice and then wouldn't take a refill 
only a fresh glass."
 
"What was he drinking?" Mulder asked as if he knew it would 
mean something.
 
"Whiskey. Neat."
 
"Thank you sir."
 
Agents Mulder and Blake left the bar and started across the 
street when Mulders cell phone rang.
 
"Excuse me...yeah. Mulder." He turned his back to the car and 
leaned on the driver's door as Blake sat in and secured her 
belt.
 
"Mulder? I just got a call from Quantico saying that the body 
should be ready in 45 minutes."
 
"That was quick."
 
"What body Mulder?" she asked and he heard her sneezing 
away from the phone.
 
"Another victim.  I was hoping you could do an autopsy for 
me."
 
"So much for my weekend off." She joked but he heard the 
tiredness in her voice.
 
"Sorry Scully."
 
"No worries.  I'll get out there as quick as I can."
 
"Thank you.  How are you feeling?" He asked hurriedly, not 
wanting her to think he didn't care.
 
"Great. Perfect slicing and dicing mood." He heard her 
chuckling and sneezing as she hung up the phone.  He slipped 
it back into his coat pocket as he got into the car next to Agent 
Blake.  She was smiling at him when he started the car.
 
"The wife Agent Mulder? Doesn't she like you out playing 
with your friends so late?"
 
"My partner Agent Blake and she is performing the autopsy 
on the body we found tonight."
 
"She's a doctor?"
 
"Yes."  He pulled out onto the street and drove back towards 
the bureau.
 
"You get a doctor in the basement meanwhile I'm stuck with 
Agent Gary Pickles upstairs," she sneered.
 
"Don't like Agent Pickles?" Mulder asked as he pulled up at a 
red light.
 
"He's fine when he's not grabbing my ass.  I think he's 
intimidated by strong women."
 
"Then he definitely wouldn't like my partner." Mulder 
admitted with a chuckle.
"Agent Scully isn't it?"
 
"Yeah."  Glancing at her sideways Mulder wondered how 
much Agent Blake did know and how much she was just 
learning, but being adept at keeping his cards close to his 
chest Mulder let her talk about her chauvinistic partner and 
her rise and fall through the bureau, none of which interested 
him that much.  Finally reaching the FBI garage Mulder 
pulled up at the main entrance with the engine still running.
 
"You pushing me out Agent Mulder?"
 
"I'm going out to Quantico to see if Scully found anything.  
The lab should be through with the bite analysis in the 
morning.  I'm presuming the photo fit you have is from the 
assaults in New York?"
 
"Yes."
 
"There is a meeting with AD. Douglas in conference room 
three tomorrow at 9.30."
 
"What about my theory?"
 
"Your pattern? Well we'll see tomorrow."
 
"And I was told you'd believe my theory. Guess it's not crazy 
enough for you then."
 
"Guess not Agent Blake." Mulder seemed tired with the 
conversation and she decided not to push it.  Closing the door 
behind her she watched him drive away then turned to retrieve 
her own car.
 
***
 
Quantico Autopsy Lab
7th November
12.34AM

The skin was cold.  The hair was limp.  The eyes were dull 
and lifeless.  The cause of death was obvious but it was all too 
often that Dana Scully found herself standing over a dead 
body with little or no reason for the scalpel in her hand.  And 
yet here she was doing it again, in between sneezing and 
coughing fits anyway.

After sewing the body closed Scully looked down at the 
unmoving form and brushed her hand over the eyes to close 
them fully.  The chest remained still and the small jugular 
point that usually bounced with rhythmic beat lay motionless 
and dead.  Her eyes scanned the bruising on her neck and the 
lurid bite mark on her shoulder.  Scully had already sent the 
blood to the lab for full work up but she didn't expect to hear 
results until lunchtime tomorrow.  
 
"Autopsy finished at 12.34 AM. Honey Windshackle, October 
28th 2000. Dana Scully." She stopped the recording tape and 
placed it next to the head lost in thoughts so deep that she 
didn't hear Mulder push the heavy swing door open.
 
"Scully.  You're done already?" He walked in carrying two 
steaming Styrofoam cups and handed one to her.
 
"Just."  Sipping her coffee gratefully, she felt the jolt pass 
through her immediately and sighed into the cup.
 
"Find anything?"
 
"She was strangled to death, possibly during intercourse.  
Traces of semen were found which has gone for testing.  
Saliva from the bite and a skin sample from under her nails."
 
"Any evidence the death may have been an accident? The 
result of auto-erotic play?" 
 
"Possibly.  It would make sense."  Scully considered, running 
her fingers over the bruising. "If it is, then it changes the 
whole premise of the serial killings without more bodies."
 
"You mean like this was a once off? An accident?" He looked 
up at her furrowed brow and tried to imagine how Agent 
Blake would take such a simple observation that cut through 
her theory so cleanly.
 
"We can ask him when we catch him; with all this evidence I 
can't imagine not catching this guy." She gently led the 
medical tarp over the body offering it what little dignity she 
could.

"Or linking him to the other assaults."  He decided for some 
reason not to mention the gruff words he'd shared with Agent 
Blake
"You think it's the same guy?" she asked as they walked out 
of the room and into the changing room.  Mulder followed 
and held her cup while she untied the scrub gown and pulled 
off the rest of the medical garb.
 
 "Looks like it.  A bartender at the Staggs Head across the 
street from the murder scene would probably be able to ID 
him if we catch him."
 
"If Mulder? Not feeling confident? Lead investigator jitters?" 
she teased pulling a sweater on over her top and sitting on the 
bench to put her sneakers on.
 
"It just doesn't feel right.  All this evidence and yet nothing."
 
"Give it a chance to get run through the criminal database 
Mulder.  These things take time."
 
"Ahh patience, my one Achilles heel."

Scully took her cup back and drank it quickly.  Tossing the 
empty cup into the trash she followed him out to the car park 
and got in beside him.
 
"I'd like to see the autopsy report on the victim found at the 
motel yesterday."
 
"You mean the day before yesterday." He tapped the 
dashboard clock to emphasise the late hour.
 
"Yeah."
 
"How are you feeling?" he asked her suddenly.
 
She sniffed subconsciously, "I'm okay.  Just a head cold."
 
"I spoke to AD Douglas and told him I'd take the case."
 
"Good." She unbuckled her belt as he pulled up outside her 
apartment.
 
"I called a few agents I wanted working on it and there is a 
meeting in conference room three tomorrow morning at 8.30 
if you feel up to it."
 
"I'll be there."
 
***
 
Kennedy Street
7th November
12.20AM

Jake puffed on the cigarette and watched the burning tobacco 
spark up against his inhalation.  The rain had all but soaked 
through his clothes and he decided it was time to get a room.  
Maybe even stay the night this time he added with a rueful 
smile.  A buzzing neon sign announced vacancies at the 
Grady hostel so he stepped in out of the rain and booked in.  
Paying for it in cash the receptionist thought nothing of it and 
just asked him to sign the book.

The room was barely functional but Jake didn't really expect 
anything more.  He tossed his coat at the foot of he bed and 
lay down closing his eyes to the putrid room around him.  
Footsteps raced back and forth in the hallway and shouting 
could be heard from different rooms.  Turning his back to the 
door he buried his head under the pillow and tried to get the 
rest he desperately needed.  

A barrage of Spanish came rushing up the hall and stopped 
out side his door.  The language was loud but he couldn't 
understand it and tried to ignore it until the pounding on his 
door began.  Jumping up off the bed Jake backed away and 
found himself against the wall.
 
"Abre la Puerta!"
 
"Go away!" Jake called out more angry than fearful.
 
"ABRE LA JOJIDA PUERTA AHORA!"
 
"I don't understand what you want! Go away!"

The pounding on the door stopped and for one moment Jake 
thought they had left until one more tremendous bang on the 
door made it fly off its hinges and land on the floor, shaking 
up clouds of dust in it's wake.  Jake backed away and pressed 
his back against the wall between the two small windows.
 
"What do you want?" he muttered calmly.
 
"You don't belong here mister...we want you out of here."
"I just wanted a room for the night."
 
While one of the men came towards him the other went over 
to the bed where Jake's coat lay.  He picked it up and started 
to rummage through the pockets until the found the roll of 
bank notes.
 
"What's this?" he asked uncurling the crumpled notes and 
shuffling them through his fingers. "There's over a grand 
here..."
 
"Listen guys you really don't want to piss me off."

The man on the bed with the money laughed, barking out a 
high-pitched sound that was more painful then humorous.  He 
shoved the notes into his pocket and stood nodding his head at 
the other guy.  Stepping in front of Jake the other man lifted 
his bat and hammered it down onto his head, connecting with 
his temple.  Jake went down to the ground landing on his 
knees but stood and faced him again.

Surprised, he hit Jake again this time kicking him in the face 
when his head bent low enough.  Jake spat the blood out of his 
mouth and wiped his lips with the back of his hand but then 
turned around and stood up again.
 
"You don't know when to stay down do you?" He was 
snarling now.

This time when the bat was raised Jake blocked it with his 
forearm and twisted his grip to pull it off his assailant.  He 
threw the bat behind him and stepped towards the surprised 
attacker who backed away from him.  Throwing a punch 
aimed at Jake's torso, he lunged forward and was joined by 
his partner who jumped at Jake from behind.  It was as if 
Jake's skin was lathered in acid and he felt it burning through 
his hands.  The pain became unbearable and he let go falling 
to the floor immediately feeling none of the searing hot pain 
he'd felt a second ago.
 
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he yelled at Jake who 
was looking down at him a strange expression of pity and 
resignation fluttering across his face.
 
"Me? Nothing but you just entered a world of hurt."

The first attacker stepped forward as if to protect his friend 
but with a swift swing of his arm, Jake connected with his 
neck and he fell to the floor gasping for breath through his 
crushed throat.  They watched him for a moment as he tried to 
breathe, his eyes filling with panic as his lungs begged for the 
air he wanted to give them, then finally with a spasm that 
shook his whole body he collapsed, his hands falling to his 
sides and his eyes closing.
 
"Here, here take it back!" he said hurriedly pulling the cash 
out of his pocket and throwing it across the floor to where 
Jake stood over him. With a snort Jake stepped over the 
crumpled bills and leaned down to his attacker.
 
"Too late," he whispered shaking his head and smiling an odd 
smile that barely curved his thin lips.  Jake's large hands 
reached down for him, cupping his face in a tight grip that 
burned his skin. He screamed loudly but Jake tightened his 
grip closing the stranger's jaw muffling his howls.
With Jake's hands on him he felt the pain of a thousand 
attacks rush through him and his chest stung in sliced ripples.  
He felt his blood running over his stomach wetting his shirt 
and staining the carpet below him.

Jake's face broke out into a thick sweat with the effort of 
holding the position, but he needed to be rid of the build up, 
needed to purge his body.  He couldn't feel the pain rushing 
through him and into the shaking body beneath him but the 
effort of maintaining the contact was all but too much for him.  

Finally he released him and fell to the floor, half falling on the 
body as he gasped for air, refilling his lungs and exhaling 
slowly as he regained control and pushed himself off the 
attacker.  The joy he felt pumped his heart at an alarming rate 
but he was too exhilarated to care.  His trembling hands 
reached up to trace his own smiling lips and Jake couldn't 
help but laugh at the tremendous feeling of pleasure that 
coursed through his body.

Walking around the room he collected the cash and grabbed 
his coat off the bed.  He slipped it on and zipped it to the neck 
before going over to the door and stepping into the hall.  A 
glance back into the room burned the image of the two lifeless 
bodies into his brain, but he closed the door solidly and 
walked out of the motel breathing deeply, feeling a weight lift 
from his shoulders as darkness filled the void.

BETA IN PROGRESS 2 of 6

***

FBI Conference Room
7th November 
8.22AM
 
 
Mulder sat at the top of the room sifting through 
his folder, reading over the notes he had stayed up 
most of the night making.  Scully spotted him the 
minute she walked in but he seemed so engrossed 
that she left him to it and walked down to the back 
of the room to get a coffee.  She noticed how tired 
he looked and how his hair was slightly ruffled at 
the back where his combing hadn't quite managed to 
rid it fully of bed-head.   She exchanged 
pleasantries with a few agents she had worked with 
on other cases while they waited for the meeting to 
begin.
 
Agent Alex Blake breezed in through the side door 
with a steaming cup of coffee already in her hand.  
She made a beeline for Mulder and sat on the edge 
of the desk beside him, handing him the cup, which 
he took with a weary smile.  Scully watched as they 
spoke in low voices for a few moments with Mulder 
pointing something out in the file.  The other 
agent was frowning at him but then he must have 
said something else because her face lit up in a 
wondrous smile aimed directly at her partner who 
quirked his lips in a soft smile and sat back.  
 
It was then that he noticed Scully and nodded in 
her direction.  He was about to stand and approach 
her when the door opened and AD. Douglas walked in 
frowning. The whole room seemed to notice his mood 
and quickly the agents took their seats.  Douglas 
sat next to Mulder with Blake on his other side so 
Scully sat on the other end of the oval table to 
get a better view of the projector.
 
"Right we have two murders so far here in DC. 
Possibly stemming from a string of assaults in the 
New York area." Douglas said glancing towards Agent 
Blake with a slight nod then stood as he addressed 
the room walking around the table and speaking 
without notes, clasping his hands together behind 
his back.  He detailed the murder scenes and called 
out file pages for them all to turn to as he spoke.  
Finally he turned to Mulder and with an 
outstretched hand he walked towards him.  Leaning 
on the back of Mulder's chair he put on hand on his 
shoulder and looked around the room making eye 
contact with the other twelve agents that sat at 
the table. 
 
"Agent Mulder is working the case as I'm sure you 
are aware but we're going to need each and every 
one of you to get this thing finished without any 
more casualties."
 
Mulder stood up and switched on the projector.  He 
flipped from picture to picture pointing out things 
that Douglas hadn't mentioned and asking different 
Agents for their opinions at different points.  
When he turned to Scully and asked her for the 
autopsy report, she mentioned everything she found 
and noted that it all came down to getting one step 
ahead of him as he had yet to develop a distinctive 
pattern.
 
"Surely if it was an escalation from assault to 
murder he would have been caught before...arrested 
before," one agent mentioned.
 
"Not necessarily." Agent Blake stood and detailed 
her profile on the attacker.  With points about his 
neatness and his coldness towards the victims she 
summarised that he had been careful before and had 
never been caught but his escalation was making him 
more accessible.  "The bite marks on the assaulted 
women had never broken the skin, saliva or DNA was 
never collected because the women showered or 
otherwise cleansed all trace evidence before 
contacting the police. But we have an exact match 
on the bite last night to the bites on the 
victims."
 
 "So we know it's the same guy?" one of the Agents 
asked.
 
"Yes. Prints are a match too."
 
"But we still don't have an ID?"
 
"No. His prints were run through the system back 
then without a match so unless he's gotten himself 
a criminal record..." 
 
"That's where we come in." Mulder interrupted the 
line of conversation before they got buried in 
negatives.  "We need to canvas the areas of both 
murders for witnesses, possibly someone who might 
recognise him.  These hotels and bars are not the 
kind of places you wander into without being seen. 
We have a photo fit of this guy that should be 
distributed throughout the city."
 
"What about some TV and press coverage? Reach a 
wider audience?" Agent Blake suggested.
 
"No.  We don't want an air of desperation added to 
this case."
 
"Agent Fry and Agent Cain are taking both teams out 
today to start." Douglas stood as he spoke and 
shuffled his papers into a neater pile signalling 
the end of the meeting.  "All reports to Agent 
Mulder by the end of the day."
 
Mulder colored slightly at Douglas' taking control 
but without making a scene there was no way he 
could address him so he let it go.  Agent Blake 
reached out and touched his arm to gain his 
attention when he failed to respond to her calling 
his name.
 
"Agent Mulder. You okay?"
 
"Yeah I'm fine."
 
"Shall we go?"
 
"Sorry?" He gathered his files and looked around 
the room for Scully but her familiar red head was 
nowhere to be seen.
 
"Shall we go talk to the manager of the motel?"
 
"I'll be heading out later with Agent Scully.  You 
should go with Agent Cain."
 
Without giving her a chance to reply Mulder walked 
from the room.  He quickly made his way down to the 
basement where as expected her found Scully sitting 
at her desk.  He walked over and perched on the 
corner but she still didn't look up.
 
"How are you feeling?" 

"I'm okay.  Just a little tired." With a stray hand 
she reached up to her neck and stroked it gently 
with small soft motions.
 
"You ran out of that meeting before I could catch 
you."
 
"I didn't run out.  The meeting was finished so I 
left."
 
"Why didn't you come over when you came in?"
 
"You were busy preparing for the meeting.  I didn't 
want to disturb you."
 
"Is everything okay Scully?"
 
"Everything is fine." She looked up to him and 
tried to offer him a reassuring smile. "I'm just a 
little run down."
 
The phones' ring interrupted the rest of his 
thoughts and he slowly walked over to answer it.  
He listened for a few minutes without remark, then 
put it down and turned to her.
 
"Another murder."  He dropped the files he was 
still holding onto his desk and started to walk out 
holding the door for her to step through before 
him.
 
"Where?"
 
"Grady hostel.  Two men."  They hurriedly took the 
stairs up one flight to the parking garage and bee 
lined for his car.

"You think it's the same guy?"
 
"Different MO. But then he's escalating at a rate 
unprecedented for this type of crime."
 
Grady Hostel
7th November
9.15AM
 
The city streets were packed with morning traffic 
but with a few well placed handbrake turns and his 
head lights flashing Mulder made it to the Grady 
hostel in no time.  Police cordoned off the street 
and had emptied the motel of all its guests.   A 
young officer, whose hat was crushed down on his 
ears, approached them as they flashed their badges 
at the perimeter guard.
 
"You're the FBI?" he asked holding out his hand 
ready to be shaken with an exuberance Mulder wasn't 
prepared for.
 
"Special Agent Fox Mulder. And this is my partner 
special Agent Dana Scully.  You made the call?"
 
"Yes sir.  Officer Clyne. We were warned about any 
crimes or murders of a sexual nature to call the 
team at the FBI and they called you."
 
"The call said the victims were two men?" Scully 
asked as they climbed the grotty stairs.
"Yes two Hispanic men, both aged between 25 and 35 
but we have no positive ID's as of yet."
 
They walked the empty hall of the second floor, 
their shoes announcing their arrival to the crime 
scene guard who peeled the police tape off the door 
and allowed them entry.  Scully immediately went to 
the first body.  It had been covered by a black 
tarp but as she revealed it she looked down to his 
neck and saw the disfiguring marks.  A single 
purple line across the centre of the neck marked 
the point where the larynx had been crushed and 
Scully was shocked at the lack of bruising anywhere 
else on the neck or wrists.
 
"We found a bat over by the window and a few bills 
under the bed with blood on them."
 
"One was choked and the other..." Mulder flicked 
through the police report the officer handed him.
 
"The other seemed to have bled to death."
 
Scully pulled back the tarp that had lain over the 
second body and winced at the sliced chest that had 
drained him of his blood.  His face was calm and 
smooth except for his eyes that lay wide and open 
with fear.
 
"What makes you think this was a crime of a sexual 
nature officer?" Scully stood away from the bodies 
and approached them where they still stood by the 
door.
 
"Well this ain't the nicest area. And this hotel 
does hourly rates.  The bills we picked up were 
fifty's and hundred dollar bills...not exactly 
pocket change."
 
"But you have no evidence of sexual trauma?"
 
"I believe these men interrupted-," the officer 
said waving his arm around the room. "Well the 
report asked for anything..."
 
"I don't think it is him Mulder."
 
"Why not?"
 
"Apart from the change in gender attacks, the lack 
of sexual trauma on either of these men. They are 
both fully clothed and the blood is undisturbed."  
She led him down the hall again and they took the 
stairs slowly careful of the loose threadbare 
carpeting.  
 
When they reached the lobby Mulder walked towards 
the reception desk and fondled the pages of the 
Register until he came to the check in times for 
last night.
 
"It was him Scully." Mulder said with conviction, 
but then she realised, he said everything with 
conviction.
 
"What? How do you know?" She asked looking down to 
the page where his fingers drummed out an irregular 
beat.
 
"Telly Savalas checked in here last night at half 
twelve."
 
"Kojak?"
 
"Officer Clyne, can you arrange to get those two 
bodies out to Quantico as soon as possible?" Mulder 
said turning to the eager young cop who stood 
behind them.
 
"Mulder, what are you talking about?"
 
"Kojak...at the Midnight Motel the receptionist 
looked exactly like Telly Savalas."
 
"So?"
 
"And last night at 12.30 a man signed using the 
name Telly Savalas."
 
"Oh Mulder you have got to be kidding." He looked 
over his shoulder at her and smiled.  
 
"Quit stalling Scully, you've got some bodies to 
take care of.  I'm going to call for a forensic 
team before the local police destroy what little 
evidence there is."
 
"Maybe I should call Telly Savalas and see if he 
can account for his whereabouts last night." She 
pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket and 
quickly keyed a number in.  Mulder watched her 
openly gaping.  "Or I'll call the coroner and 
prepare the bodies..."
 
***
 
The Jolly Roger Bar
7th November
6.04PM
 
Jake finished his whiskey and let the small black 
straw fall on to the counter.  The bartender 
sauntered over, one eyebrow arched into his 
fashionable fringe.  He picked up the straw and put 
it below the bar with the now empty glass.  Wiping 
the table with little interest he stepped back to 
give enough room for the waiter to walk across the 
bar, all the while keeping his eyes on jakes 
lowered gaze.
 
"How about another?" he asked leaning in closer and 
crossing his arms between them both.
 
"Yeah."
 
"You'll regret it if you don't." The barman turned 
to the upside down bottles and released a shot of 
Jack Daniels whiskey into a clean glass.
 
"Sorry?" Jake took the drink and glanced over the 
sequined gloved hand that passed it to him, keeping 
his eyes lower than the mans face he allowed his 
eyes to wander over the light pink vest and just 
visible black leather trousers before staring down 
at the cold brown liquid swirling in his glass.
 
"If you don't ask someone to dance soon the DJ set 
will be over."
 
"Dance?"
 
"There are a few guys in here who have been 
checking you out but your vibes aren't too 
inviting." 
 
"I just came in here for a drink." Jake drained his 
glass in a painful hot swallow that left a sour 
taste in his mouth and lined his throat.
 
"Yeah."  The barman rested his head in one palm and 
let the other slide over towards Jake. "Out of all 
the bars in Washington that serve JD you happened 
to find one of the loosest gay bars in town.  Ain't 
you the lucky one?"
 
"Maybe I am." Jake stood up and took his light 
brown coat from the back of the chair.  With a 
quick perusal around the room at the dancing 
couples and lonely drinkers he turned his eyes back 
to the barman.  He noticed immediately the big 
brown eyes and the small lips curved into a 
suggestive smile.  "Loosest gay bar in town?" Jake 
watched as his small lips expanded into a full 
smile and he backed away from the bar.
"Wait there, I'll be right back."
 
The barman rushed down to the other end of the room 
where Jake saw him talking excitedly with another 
man.  They both seemed to laugh in his direction 
but soon he spotted the short pink vest winding its 
way through the crowd.
 
"My name is Peter by the way."
 
"Jake."
 
"Jake? My favourite name."  Peter slipped his arm 
through Jake's clutching his elbow as they both 
left the bar and walked out into the cold street.
 
"Are you cold?" Jake asked looking down to the 
shivering arms that snaked out below the short pink 
sleeves and entwined with his.
 
"No, I wont have time to be cold."  Peter 
seductively slid his hand down Jake's arm and 
intertwined their fingers. "My car is over here." 
Jake found himself led over to a small jeep that 
was parked across a gateway to a closed car park.  
Peter jumped in and slid across the front seat 
pulling Jake in behind him. 
 
"Shouldn't we drive somewhere? A motel or 
something?"
 
"No honey I have to get back to work in half an 
hour...c'mon."  
Peter reached over and started to unbutton Jake's 
shirt but he stopped when Jake grabbed his wrists 
and pulled his hands away. "What?"
 
"Not here."
 
With a sigh Peter sat into the seat properly and 
started the engine, the drove the jeep around the 
block and parked down a quiet dark lane that was 
lined with bins.
 
"Will this do?" he asked already leaning over to 
Jake and straddling his lap.
 
"Yeah...this is good."
"Oh I'm just starting."
 
Peter opened Jake's shirt and kissed his chest, his 
tongue licking it's way through the matted hair 
until he found his nipple.  Small circular 
movements seemed to garner no reaction so he rubbed 
his teeth against the hardened nub as a warning 
before he bit him gently.  Jake remained still so 
Peter continued his journey almost kneeling on the 
car floor when he met the barrier of Jake's thick 
black belt.  He let his fingers run over the large 
buckle as he slid the leather out of its fastening 
and opened it fully turning up to smile at Jake.  
The button fly jeans opened without protest but 
still Jake made no sound as Peter shuffled his 
jeans down and fondled him slowly.
 
"This going to be a one man show Jake?" Peter said 
as he kissed and licked the sensitive area around 
his belly button.
 
"No."
 
"Well how about a little ohhing and ahhing!" Peter 
joked as his finger slipped beneath the rim of 
Jake's shorts.  As Peter's hand circled him Jake 
finally moved setting his back a little straighter 
allowing Peter more access.  "That's better.  Feel 
that?" Peter teased squeezing him while at the same 
time licking tantalising circles all over his 
chest.
 
"Kind of."
 
"Kind of?" Peter looked up but the look on Jake's 
face was anything but relaxed.  His eyes were cold, 
his lips were thin and strained and his arms lay 
limply by his sides. But suddenly the hands that 
lay so still snapped up and pulled the pink vest 
over Peter's head.  They moved slowly over his 
small chest and came to rest at his waist.  Almost 
fearfully Peter watched the large tanned hands roam 
over his body before pulling his leather trousers 
down and letting them drape over his ankles.
"Now we're talking."
 
"Shhhh."
 
Jake tightened his grip on Peter's waist and 
forcibly turned him around to press him down onto 
him.  Peter moaned with pleasure at the pressure 
that pushed into him and gripped the dashboard.  He 
arched his back as Jake bucked beneath him and 
moaned again at the moving fingers against his 
skin.
 
"Bet ya feel that," Peter panted.
 
"Wait..." Peter felt Jake's hands move away from 
him and tried to turn to see what was happening but 
one hand pressed hard between his shoulders kept 
him facing forward. 
 
"What's going on?" Peter asked trying to look 
around but with Jake's hand on his back and his 
hips still moving there was little he could do and 
he wasn't sure if he wanted to.  Fingers threaded 
their way around his shoulder blades and along his 
spine as Jake's hands made their way down to his 
waist again.
 
"Do you like that Peter?" he asked, his voice heavy 
with anticipation.
 
"Oh yeah."
 
"What about this?"
 
Peter didn't even see the blade as it glinted in 
the moonlight and made a swift stabbing entry into 
his side.  The pain was hot and searing as the 
knife cut a jagged hole through his skin and Jake 
pulled it free only to slice across his own scarred 
chest.
 
"Jesus Christ." Peter groaned in pain but he 
suddenly found his throat tight as Jake's hands 
closed around his neck and squeezed.  Jake's hips 
moved faster and faster his breathing becoming 
laboured with the effort of keeping Peter in one 
place with one hand on his throat and the other 
stabbing him in short sharp motions in the back 
matching each stab with a slice of the blade on his 
own chest.
 
The body became limp over his lap as the blood 
drained from Peter's open wounds and with his 
release Jake let out a deep breath that seemed to 
fog up the remainder of the windows that had tried 
to stay stubbornly clear.  Silence in the car was 
broken only by Jake's frayed breath as he pushed 
Peter's limp body over onto the drivers seat.
 
He bent over and clutched his jeans from around his 
shins and shimmied them up to his waist where he 
buttoned them and fastened his belt.  His shirt was 
floating open as he stepped out of the car and the 
cold wind whistled across his wounded chest 
bringing with it a chill he didn't expect.  
Hurriedly he buttoned his shirt and fixed his 
jacket after slamming the door closed and walking 
away.
 
The adjoining street was quiet with minimal 
pedestrian traffic but Jake moved quickly though 
the narrow street until he came to a traffic 
junction.  Spotting a bus pull up at the stop sign 
across the street, Jake raced over the road and 
hopped on without taking note of its destination.  
The numbness was rapidly spreading through his 
chest even as the wounds closed and the remaining 
blood soaked into his cotton shirt.  As the 
pleasure faded he rested his head against the 
window and let the gentle rocking of the bus's 
motion lull him into a restless sleep.
 
***
 
Quantico Autopsy Lab
7th November
6.32PM
 
"This can't be right."
 
"We checked it twice.  The Blood is O Neg."
 
"But the victim is A Pos."
 
"Yes Dr Scully."
 
"So he's not bleeding his own blood?"
 
"It wouldn't seem so."
 
Scully took the results sheet and paced the small 
office.  The technician glanced after her, 
nervously watching her measured footsteps cross the 
room, turn and cross it again.  The sheet fluttered 
from her hands and as he bent over to pick it up 
she straightened up with a sway holding onto the 
wall to steady herself.
 
"Dr Scully? You okay?" The technician was over by 
her side in a flash grasping her elbow.
 
"Yes I'm just a bit off centre today with a head 
cold."
 
"Do you think it's possible we ID'd him wrong?" He 
said as he poured her a cup of water from the 
cooler and handed it to her.
 
"Carlos Fernandez.  He's been ID'd by his brother.  
Who gave us permission for the autopsy this 
morning."
 
"But the blood..." the technician sat down and 
pulled the results up on the screen again as Scully 
scanned the sheet in her hand.
 
"Maybe it's a typo.  Maybe he was never A Pos."
 
"But he donated blood to his sister when he was 
seven for a blood transfusion.  He is A Pos, as is 
his sister."
 
"It just doesn't make sense."
 
"Good thing I'm here then isn't it!"
 
Scully looked up to see Mulder enter the small 
office. His hands rested idly on his hips and his 
smile was tired and crooked.  His hair was ruffled 
slightly and from its sheen she could tell it was 
raining outside.  He walked into the room and took 
a glass of water from the cooler before leaning 
back against the high desk, letting his legs dangle 
idly.
 
"What doesn't make sense?" he asked peering over 
the edge of the sheet to see a blood work up 
results page.
 
"The blood on the victim...isn't the victims 
blood." Scully allowed the technician to show 
Mulder on the screen the dissimilarities between 
the bloods they found and the blood they expected.
 
"Maybe it wasn't his blood.  Maybe the attacker was 
injured. Couldn't it be his?"
 
"Well yes if it was on his clothes but not if it 
was in his veins and all over his body."
 
"He was bleeding this blood?" Mulder asked 
incredulously, turning to Scully to gauge her 
reaction.
 
"Yes.  The slices on his chest were from a small 
thin blade, not quite deep enough to kill but there 
were plenty of them there. Also around his jaw 
there is some bruising as if someone was holding 
his mouth closed so he couldn't scream." Scully 
passed him her autopsy notes and let him read them 
through in his usual skimming fashion.
 
"What about the other guy in the room?"
"Luis Rodriguez suffocated due to a crushed larynx.  
He took a single blow to the throat that knocked 
him over, crushed his larynx and broke a 
vertebrae."
 
"Who are we looking for here, the Hulk?" 
 
"DNA from this blood can be measured against the 
saliva sample I took from the first autopsy I did." 
 
"It's the same guy, he's escalated to murder and it 
looks like things are going to get a whole hell of 
a lot worse if we don't catch him." Mulder was 
speaking in low tones almost unaware of the company 
he was in.
 
"Any new leads from the scene?" She could hear the 
desperation in his voice and knew he was making 
little or no progress with his profile. She wanted 
to tell him to forget it for a while, to invite him 
round to curl up and watch a video with her. She'd 
even get the butter-flavoured popcorn he liked so 
much if it meant he could relax for just one 
evening. But she knew better then to suggest it.

With his mind totally on the case absorbing all the 
information, some for later inspection he seemed 
distracted and almost confused. And although she 
knew him to be the total opposite she couldn't help 
but worry about him. She was used to his seclusion 
when he was profiling it seemed different this 
time. Deeper and more intense. Suddenly realizing 
she had been gazing at him while he spoke about the 
last murder scene she gave her head a little shake 
and tried to focus on what he was saying. 
 
"No nothing. Same prints same clues same dead 
ends." He took the folder from her and reached into 
his pocket as the high-pitched sound of his mobile 
beckoned him. "Mulder...yes.  We're on our way."  
Pushing it back into his pocket he nodded grimly at 
her silent question.  "That was Agent Blake. 
Another body was found."
 
***
.
Mason Avenue
7th November
7.43PM
 
 
 
The side street had been cordoned off and with TV 
crews lining the yellow and black tapes Mulder and 
Scully had to hold up their badges to gain entry.  
The young perimeter officer raised it and allowed 
them to step through pointing them in the right 
direction.  It was a small jeep with removable roof 
and windows and was parked neatly beside a fire 
escape staircase.
 
"We got the call about an hour ago about a body in 
a jeep.  It wasn't till we saw the state of it that 
we thought to call you."  Detective Sean Patterson 
shook hands with each of them offering them only a 
grim smile before plummeting straight into the hard 
facts of the case.

"Why?" Mulder asked peering into the jeep to see 
Peter's ungainly body arching unnaturally over the 
front seat.
"We figure he was raped. Raped and stabbed. So I 
called you straight away."
 
"Male victim?" Scully said surprised, looking in 
over Mulder's shoulder.
 
"Yes. He's a bartender at a club around the corner. 
One of your Agents has just gone over there to ask 
some questions."
 
"Did you manage to lift any prints?" Scully asked.
 
"Any? The place is full of them.  We've taken the 
victims prints to rule them out but I'm sure we'll 
get him."
 
"Thank you Detective Patterson." Mulder nodded 
curtly and the detective turned and walked away.
 
"What is it Mulder?"
 
"Ready for another autopsy?" he tossed his head in 
the direction of the crumpled body.
 
"Yes," she replied cautiously.
 
"He's changing his MO." He started to walk back 
towards the car stopping only to give instructions 
for the body to be sent to Quantico and ask 
directions to the bar.
 
"Lets get the prints checked for a match."
 
"It's him Scully.  Whatever power he felt over the 
assaults diminished enough to push him towards 
murder and now it's gone to a new stage."
 
"He doesn't match your profile does he."  Her voice 
was low as they got into the car and as he buckled 
his belt and started the engine she thought he 
didn't hear her.
 
"No," was all he said as he pulled out into the 
traffic and drove the short distance to the bar.
 
 
Jolly Roger Bar
7thth November
7.55PM
 
The bright lighting did nothing to expel the 
desolation that seemed to hang in the air.  
Brightly painted walls seemed only to mock the 
sombre mood and with no music playing or patrons 
holding up the bar, Mulder found it hard to see the 
inviting side of this place.  Across the room he 
spotted Agent Blake talking to two large men who 
wore matching pink tee shirts and black leather 
trousers.  She had just finished her questioning as 
they approached and turned, surprised to see them.
 
"You see the body?" she asked immediately 
recovering and affording Scully only the merest of 
glances before pouring her eyes over Mulder.
    
Scully noticed immediately the silky black blouse 
tucked carefully into a grey linen skirt that 
barely skimmed her knees.  The high-heeled black 
shoes that brought her to eye level with Mulder and 
the neatly cut but unkempt curly hair that tumbled 
around her shoulders added to the trampy picture. 
 
"Yes we've just come from there.  You have an 
identity?"
 
"Peter Boylan.  Worked here for the last four 
years.  Left here with a man at about half past ten 
promising to return under an hour.  Never seen 
alive again."
 
"Prints are being run as we speak."
 
"Yeah great Agent Mulder while we waste all this 
time verifying that this is our guy he'll have 
killed again and we'll be no closer to apprehending 
him."
 
"Prints need to be checked or we could waste time 
running on a wild goose chase."  Scully stepped 
forward not bothering to introduce herself and 
glared openly at Agent Blake.  "There have been 
enough murders already."
 
"My point exactly." Agent Blake walked past them 
both and started towards the door. "Oh by the way 
Mulder...how is your profile coming along? Any 
patterns yet?" she called over her shoulder but 
kept walking not waiting for his reply.
 
"That's Agent Blake?" Scully asked with disdain, 
watching as she sauntered out of the bar almost 
sure the sway of her hips was exaggerated for their 
benefit.
"Yeah."
 
"You okay Mulder?"
 
"I'm fine...this case is just so..."
 
She let him struggle for his words for a moment not 
sure when she had seen him so frustrated before, 
and gently squeezing his elbow conveying as much 
encouragement as she could. 
 
"You need to relax Mulder."
 
"Yeah relax," he laughed sardonically, running an 
absent hand through his hair. "I need to solve this 
case."
 
"Well give me a lift to the lab and lets do that."
 
***
 
Stadium Sports Bar
7th November
9.58PM
 
Jake sat on the corner stool and sipped his 
whiskey.  Having spent the previous night in the 
bus terminal he had decided to get a motel but his 
search had taken him to the nearest bar where he 
remained perched even now.  Thoughts of his ever-
increasing need for the sensations were worrying 
even to him but nothing could dispel him from the 
feeling. Nothing could replace it so he knew it was 
the only way.
 
The room was small and dark and stank with the 
unwelcoming smell of a men's shower room he mused 
as he took another sip of his favourite tipple.  
The day passed by in unmeasured hours each one 
seeming like the next until the bartender switched 
the TV on and waited for the game to start.  But 
what caught Jake's attention wasn't the 
anticipation of the game but the familiar image of 
Peter's jeep.  

His eyes were glued to the small set behind 
the bar that showed the news.  He recognised the 
jeep immediately and while willing the barman to 
turn up the volume he watched the muted newscasters 
shake their heads in dismay.  All too suddenly the 
news was over and the sports frenzy was being 
displayed so Jake finished his drink and left the 
bar.
 
The cold streets met him without ceremony and 
he huddled into his woollen coat to keep the wind 
at bay.  A small sign for vacancies at the Joyson 
Motel caught his eye across the street so he 
checked in.  Walking down the shabbily carpeted 
hallways to his assigned room Jake glanced over his 
shoulder to make sure no one was following him.
    
Once in the room with the door locked behind him he 
switched on the TV and went straight for the news 
channel.  Hearing the words this time Jake stood up 
and removed his shirt.  The angry scars on his 
chest were fading every minute and he knew by 
morning they'd be just thin red lines. As he 
watched the TV pan across the jeep with the bloody 
handprint on the window he sighed.
 
"Special Agent Alex Blake from the FBI is heading 
up the investigation and she had this to say," the 
newscaster said before turning a little to the left 
where an inset grew to the full-size of the screen.
 
"No we don't think this is a serial killer.  The 
city of Washington has nothing to fear.  We have 
our best agents on this case and with the evidence 
already collected it won't be long before we catch 
this guy."
 
"What about the other murders this week Agent 
Blake? Are they connected?" One of the more eager 
reporters asked shoving a mike into her face.
 
"As I said before we don't think this is a serial 
killer.  Now if you'll excuse me I'll get back to 
work."
 
    The newscaster came back on with a summary of 
all that had happened but Jake's eyes were locked 
on the shrunken picture of Agent Blake as she 
walked away from the crowd.  Her curly brown hair 
was loose and free but her face was strong and 
clear of fear.
 
"Strong," he said as he removed the rest of his 
clothes and lay flat on the bed enjoying the cold 
air brushing against his tingling skin. "They need 
to be strong.   It needs to last for longer."
 
    His voice spoke out into the empty room as his 
mind reeled with the possibility of sustaining his 
pleasure for longer than the usual few minutes 
after sex.  He'd need someone strong for that he 
thought, his eyes wandering back to the TV to 
glimpse the now frozen picture of Special Agent 
Blake.  His hand roamed over his body feeling the 
bumpy scars that were already fainter and he 
smiled. 
 
***
 
FBI Basement Office
8th November
10.45PM
 
In the comforts of his office Mulder stared 
unseeingly at the poster of the UFO on his wall.  
His notes were strewn all around him covering his 
desk and resting on his lap.  He held his glasses 
in his left hand and pinched the bridge of his nose 
with his right.  Silence seemed only to taunt him 
as his wandering mind fought to focus.  With an 
exasperated sigh he stood up and shuffled the pages 
into a folder before picking up the phone and 
dialling Scully's number.  Her answering service 
picked up before the phone even had a chance to 
ring and he figured she was in the middle of the 
autopsy.  He left a brief message telling her he 
was on his way to pick her up and grabbed his stuff 
before walking out to the garage.
    
The brisk walk to his car seemed to clear his mind 
and it was with his full attention that he whipped 
around at the sound of a car starting.  A blue 
Taurus pulled out of a space behind him and drove 
up slowly towards him but it wasn't until the 
darkened window rolled down that he noticed Agent 
Blake.
 
"Burning the midnight oil Agent Mulder?"
 
"Last of a dying breed."  He tossed his coat and 
folder into the back seat and slammed the door 
closed before reaching for the drivers' door.
 
"How is your profile coming?"
 
"What is it Agent Blake?" His voice was terse and 
tired adding to his weary expression and slumped 
shoulders.  The shirt sleeves he'd been wearing 
rolled up all evening were crumpled down his 
forearms but unbuttoned at the cuffs.
 
"Look Mulder we're on the same team."  She switched 
off her engine and stepped out of the car 
surprising Mulder not for the first time with her 
height.  "You need me on this case."
 
"What I need is to catch this guy."
 
"Maybe you need me in other ways too." She reached 
down and took his wrist in her hand.  Lifting it 
she fastened the small buttons on his sleeve and 
looked up at him expectantly.
 
"Agent Blake I believe you put too much weight into 
your position here." Slowly he took his arm out of 
her reach and lazily rested his hands on his hips.
 
"I will be presenting my profile to AD. Douglas in 
the morning," she said with a clear voice.  "I 
think he'll see what a mistake he's made then."
    
Mulder watched with irritation as she slipped back 
into her car and patted the folder that rested on 
the passenger seat to emphasise her point.  Her 
tyres squealed as she took off and went up the exit 
ramp, and he turned away disgusted at his own lack 
of progress.  
 
***
 
Quantico FBI Laboratories
8th November
11.25PM 
 
The drive to Quantico was too short to process his 
unsettling thoughts, and too long for him not to 
let them linger in his mind, taunting him with 
their uselessness.
 
Scully was walking out of the main building as 
he pulled up.  She climbed in and smiled not 
noticing his dark mood. 
 
"Good timing Mulder." When he made no reply she 
glanced at him again, securing her seatbelt and 
studying his features.  The darkness made it hard 
to see his eyes but the frown he wore was obvious 
and the silence he basked in was tense and 
palpable.  "What's wrong?"
 
"Power...he's attracted to the power.  The power of 
raping these women ...men ...people."  The car sped 
through the empty streets going faster as lights 
flashed angry amber before turning red.
 
"Mulder?"
 
"But it's more than that.  He can't feel it except 
through them. Seeing their pain makes him feel 
pleasure." 
"Mulder pull over," Scully insisted as he sped up 
onto the interstate ramp and crossed three lanes in 
front of oncoming traffic.
 
"Maybe there is something we're missing. Something 
to link all these victims.  The assault 
victims...the rape victims...the murders...what is 
it Scully? What am I missing?" he asked earnestly 
looking at her for a long moment taking his eyes 
off the road but pressing harder onto the 
accelerator.
 
"Mulder. Stop the car."
 
"It's a rush Scully. Holding someone else's life in 
your hands.  I think this is why he does it.  For 
the rush.  But he's needed a bigger and bigger 
rush.  So his assaults have evolved to murder..."
 
"What about the two Hispanic men in the motel 
room?" Scully asked watching the road ahead and 
flicking her eyes to Mulder as his eyes creased to 
mere slits.
 
"Opportunistic killings.  They weren't planned. 
Maybe they did interrupt him but we haven't found a 
third body.  So if they had interrupted another 
rape then where is the rape victim." his thoughts 
and ideas flew past his lips before he had a chance 
to sort them and as he spoke in circles his foot 
eased of the pedal.  

"It's not unusual for a victim of sexual assault 
not to report the crime." Scully said keeping one 
eye on the road and the other on the speedometer 
needle as it fluttered past 100.  "Only about 35% 
of rapes are reported."

"Powerful people make him feel powerful.  The two 
prostitutes were easy prey...the barman from the 
Jolly Roger bar was somewhat more brash."
 
"And the two men in the Grady Hostel knocked on the 
wrong door."  She half turned to face him listening 
to his spoken thoughts.
 
"But his need is increasing."
 
"Feeling more powerful when it was male rape?" she 
said adding to his conjecture with thoughts of her 
own.
 
"So what's next?"
  
"After male rape bores him?" she was abhorrent to 
the idea and wondered for the first time how he 
threw himself so fully into the profiling.
 
"If the act of murder coupled with the rape...auto 
erotica...is making his need grow..."
"What if he had a third person in that hostel and 
was holding them captive?"
 
    Mulder slammed on the brakes pulling the car 
into the pool lane and ignoring the numerous angry 
honks of all the horns that flew past them.  
Scullys manicured hands gripped the seat either 
side of her legs and her breath was held hot and 
heavy in her lungs.
 
"What if he is? Someone who wouldn't be noticed 
missing for so long."
 
"He entered that hotel alone and left alone.  The 
receptionist saw him."
 
"Maybe not then but now..."
 
"You think he's going to kidnap someone? Who?"
 
"That's the hard part Scully." He started the 
engine again and pulled out into the traffic 
without looking out.  Another blare of another 
angry horn made him look over his shoulder but it 
was a fleeting glance and Scully could see his mind 
was elsewhere, already in the basement. Already 
compiling a profile of the next victim. Already 
missing needed sleep and rest but now with a 
definite path for his thoughts to take.  

She could see a sense of relief wash over his tense 
features. But all she felt was the tension 
emanating from his stiff shoulders and white-
knuckle grip on the steering wheel.  His frown 
creased deeply and he barely muttered goodnight 
when he pulled up at the curb outside her apartment 
building, before taking off into the darkness.   
She thought briefly of going with him to the office 
but knew better then to think he would like the 
company.  So instead she settle with his small wave 
and quick wink and climbed out of the car. "Get 
home before the sun Mulder!" she called out but he 
was already pulling away, his mind a turmoil of 
ideas.


End of Part 2 / 6

BETA IN PROGRESS Part 3 of 6

***

FBI Building Lobby
9th November
6.40AM

Stepping into the elevator in the main lobby Alex Blake 
was glad she was alone. Using the opportunity she tucked her 
dark brown hair behind her ears only to watch it fall out again.  
She rubbed her lips together and touched her cheeks, pleased 
at the faint red color she saw.  Her smile was wide and bright 
and she knew it was a good asset so she curved her lips a little 
more, baring a few white teeth as she stepped out at the 
basement level.  

Having read up on Mulder's progress since he joined 
the FBI, she was surprised to find him heading up a 
practically nonexistent department shoved down in the 
basement and all by choice. She'd worked with men of 
Mulder's intellect before, with the uncanny ability to see the 
clues and make leaps without being shown the whole picture. 
As if the wonderful science of hindsight was right there before 
them, plain as day.  Only in Mulder did it seem more of a 
curse than a blessing. He didn't use it to propel his career so it 
shined brighter than any other agent dreamt of. Instead he 
seemed content to wallow in his own hand made pyre, 
dragging his loyal partner along in it with him.
    
The narrow corridor was dimly lit but she managed to 
manoeuvre her way around the boxes and shelves and tapped 
gently on Agent Mulder's door.  A soft voice called out to bid 
her entry, so she smoothed her hands down the front of her 
white blouse and glanced down at the plain black skirt that 
just reached her knees before she entered.

"Agent Blake. What can I do for you?" Mulder was sitting at 
his desk and spoke to her without looking up. His fingers 
moved nimbly over the keys of his computer and his focus 
stayed firmly on the screen.  The only light in the room was a 
small desk lamp beside him, and with the sun still struggling 
to rise this morning the room looked gloomy and cold.

"I was hoping we might have a meeting of minds." She 
approached his desk and stood before him her hands resting 
purposefully on her hips to accentuate her curves.

"Having trouble with your profile?" Still looking at the 
screen, Mulder continued to type regardless of her presence.
"Not at all, but if you and I could join forces..." she let her 
words hang in the air as she circled his desk. One perfectly 
manicured finger idly traced over his folders and clutter until 
she found herself standing next to him.
    
With a sigh Mulder sat back into his chair and twirled an ever-
present pencil between his hands, his fingertips playing on the 
tip as he looked up into her expectant features.

"So you are having trouble." He stood and tossed the pencil 
onto the desk as he moved to the filing cabinet and leafed 
through the full drawers.

"I've got my profile, you've got yours. I'm sure they will both 
be pretty similar. I've seen your work Agent Mulder. You're 
good."

"Thanks," he replied sardonically.

"You don't like me do you Agent Mulder?"

"Liking you isn't a necessity for my job." Having retrieved 
the elusive file Mulder shut the cabinet and returned to his 
desk only to find Blake blocking his seat.

"I've got a meeting with AD. Douglas in half an hour. I think 
it would be best if we presented a profile to him together."

"I dunno what your trying to do Agent Blake but maybe you 
should go and-"
    Before Mulder could finish his sentence Blake closed the 
short distance between them and kissed him. Her lips fell 
directly onto his and the folder he was holding pressed 
between them as she stepped closer still.  Her hands came up 
to his neck and as one moved to the back of his head the other 
wrapped around his back as she tried to deepen the kiss. But 
only just aware of what had happened Mulder, startled, 
grasped her shoulders and pushed her back just in time to see 
Scully's shocked face back away from the door.


"Eh...I...eh no...Scully," he stammered looking around the 
room hoping he'd just imagined her standing in the doorway 
and swiping angrily at his mouth with his hand.

"Look Mulder you know you need me," Agent Blake purred 
as she moved towards him and reached out to touch his chest.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" He caught her 
hand roughly and pushed it away, moving back a step to 
afford more distance between them.

"I wanted to show you how good it could be." He took a sharp 
intake of breath.

"I think you should leave Agent," he demanded using her title 
and blanching away.
    
For a long moment Blake watched him, unsure if the rejection 
was for real but as he moved towards the back of the room, 
point blank ignoring her and started to set up the projector she 
left.  Mulder watched from the corner of his eye as she closed 
the door behind her with a loud slam.  The silence that 
resonated around the room was a direct contrast to the loud 
thudding of blood in his ears as his heart tried to calm down 
its erratic beating.  Going back to his desk it took a few 
moments to process what just happened before his 
concentration was back and he pulled out his mobile to call 
Scully.    


FBI Building.
9th November
7.03AM


Scully stood in the coffee room on the 2nd floor and 
sipped at her coffee without tasting it. She'd sweetened it with 
too many sugars in her haste to get the drink but her mind had 
been elsewhere. When she arrived to the office she'd expected 
to see Mulder's crumpled figure hunched over the PC still 
wearing the same clothes matched with the same frown and 
same air of concentration that had surrounded him the night 
before; not in the arms of another agent whose hands were 
roaming over his chest to secure her hold on his lips.
    
She stood by the vending machine as if choosing a snack but 
she saw nothing, nor heard anything of the conversations that 
passed her by as the other agents grabbed their morning 
beverages, seemingly unable to process through her shock.  
Suddenly the ominous ring of her cell phone permeated her 
haze and she glanced down at the offending item. Mulder's 
cell ID flashed on the green display making her hesitate a 
moment before answering.
"Scully," she was trying to sound breezy and light. Their eyes 
had connected as she'd stood in that door way and she knew 
he'd seen her watching. Hoping the look on her face wasn't 
matching the shock she was feeling, she could do nothing else 
but escape taking the elevator to the 2nd floor, her feet 
seemingly carrying her away before she could rationalise the 
need to flee.

"Scully I...where are you?"  No one could have squeezed as 
much contriteness into his voice as Mulder right then. 

"I'm on my way down. I was just grabbing a coffee. Can I get 
you one or have you had your fill for the morning?"  Cursing 
herself for the obvious barb she took a deep breath and let it 
out slowly, willing him to see past the jibe and take it at face 
value.

"Erm no thanks, I'm fine."

"Okay I'll be down in a sec."
    
The journey to the basement seemed longer than usual. She 
hadn't made the trip with such a deep-rooted feeling of dread 
since the phone call about the office fire in '96. This time the 
fire would have been a relief. For a second or two, she 
considered the escape route to the outdoor assembly points 
where she could avoid his glances for a few moments longer 
amidst the chaos.  Passing by the manual fire alarm with 
commendable restraint, Scully tore her eyes away from the 
small red handle and entered the elevator. Other people 
ambled in next to her and asked if she was going up.

"Sure," said the coward in her with a broad smile.

    Mulder made his way down to the projector and set up the 
slides as he had planned before the unexpected interruption. 
He was unable to sit at his PC any longer.  He felt wound up 
like a 'Jack in the box'.  What he needed to do was hit the 
track until his thighs and calves were burning with that 
tingling pain and heady runners high that only made him run 
faster.  
    
His ears pricked at the sound of the elevator announcing its 
arrival and he looked up at the door waiting for her to walk in, 
his heart thudding uncomfortably. When she didn't he 
frowned at the empty space and imagined her standing in the 
corridor, trying to look nonchalant and fixing her hair, taking 
deep breaths and the image made him smile.  Taking a deep 
breath of his own Mulder casually walked towards his desk 
and took a seat, hoping it would give him a glimpse of her 
standing just beyond the doorway but the corridor was empty. 
Tempted to go out and see if she was loitering around the 
corner, Mulder dismissed the idea and stayed still. Again the 
tinny ding from the elevator rang and this time it was 
followed by her quick footfalls as she walked assuredly into 
the office, approaching his desk straight away. 

"Mulder. You came here last night after dropping me off 
didn't you?" she asked quickly with a forced smile.

"Yeah," he admitted, surprised at her first statement. Not, 
Mulder what were you doing kissing her or, What the hell was 
she doing here, but no he decided silently, that wasn't her 
style.  Dana Scully was attacking from the side. No head on 
collisions for her.

"You've been here all night haven't you?" She placed a cup 
of coffee beside him that he accepted with a tired smile, he 
watched his own fingers close around it but never made eye 
contact with her.

"Yeah."

"Do you have a change of clothes in your car? It's kinda ripe 
in here.  "

"Yeah."  His head jolted up to look up at her then. Trying to 
hide the hurt in his eyes.  

"Use it. And try out the Gym shower too."

"Okay." He stood and reached his hands above his head, 
loving the lazy feeling of stretching muscles as they seized 
and released around his body.

"How did it go?" she asked as if it were an afterthought, 
nodding towards his desk that was cluttered with scattered 
sheets and discarded and crumpled notebook pages. She knew 
he was having trouble with the profile but it seemed to run 
deeper then that. She glanced over at him as if measuring the 
silence between them, afraid to give him the chance to 
question her then quickly added, "Have you made any 
progress?"


"It's power. Assertion. Strong people." Almost forgetting the 
tension he switched straight into profiler mood and started to 
tell her about the work he'd gotton through overnight. 
"Concentrating on all the victims that were murdered, the call 
girl in the Midnight Hotel; he met her at a bar around the 
corner called Crazy Eights."

"How do you know?"

"The manager came through with identification yesterday and 
said she was often in there working the customers." Mulder 
revealed the brief report on the victims murder scene and 
handed it to her.

"Did he recognise the photo fit?" she asked slipping into her 
usual sparring role with ease.

"Yes but it was over a week ago; he said he couldn't be sure."

"How powerful can a call girl be?"

"It seems rather powerful but it's more then just the physical 
sense with him. The state of mind that comes with being 
confident and self-assured. Like you Scully. You're a 
confident self assured woman and those aspects are very 
powerful if used well."

"Please lets move past my comparison to a call girl."  Mulder 
gave quick contrite nod and pursed his lips.

"Then we have the same scenario with the next victim.  
Witness's say that Ms Honey Windshackle is a pushy sort and 
gets most of her custom that way, including her last fateful job 
with this guy," he tapped the photo fit he had pinned to the 
wall with a pencil.

"And the two Hispanic guys?" 

"Two guys who thought that someone was trying to muscle in 
on their turf. They broke into the room and tried to attack 
him." He passed her the photos of the murder scene at the 
Grady Hostel.

"He took out two large men? On his own? Even though they 
had weapons?"

"It's not unheard of. We are taught unarmed combat 
techniques at the academy. He may even have used martial 
arts"

"What about the problem with the blood?" she asked 
wondering what theory he had come up with for this one, not 
that she had a better one herself. It was weird.

"Ahh. That's the $64,000 question. "

"Ahh?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's the root to the whole thing. Maybe 
it's just a misfile of hospital records."

"I can assure you it's not a misfile. Carlos Fernandez had an 
A Pos blood type in 1978 when he went into Mercy to have 
his tonsils removed; again in 1982 when he was admitted for 
blood donation for his sister's transfusion," she pulled the 
medical file from her case, opening it up to the relevant page. 
"And funnily enough again in 1992 when he was admitted for 
a bite mark on his cheek. The evidence of which you can still 
see today." She pointed out the curved scar along his cheek 
just above his jawbone on the deceased's photo.

"But then when you preformed the autopsy?"

"O Neg. O Neg all over the place in the motel room and O 
Neg running through his circulation."

"So he..."

"Effectively he changed blood types."

"Could-" he began but she cut him off with a wave of her 
hand as she slapped the file closed.

"No Mulder. You can't change blood types."

"Maybe who ever attacked him did it."

"By flushing out his own blood and inserting a new blood 
type into his system?"

"Therapeutic Plasmapheresis," Mulder enunciated smugly.

"Mulder that kind of procedure would take hours to perform, 
and it's not a one man operation. It's just not possible."

"What if the person needed the new blood? Needed to take 
Carlos' blood to regenerate his own power. Before I was 
concentrating on a mental state of power; mental strength, but 
what if it needs to be physical too?"
    
Scully watched as he came out from behind the desk and 
paced the small confines of the office. His fingers danced 
along his pant leg and bounced up to play with his lips as he 
spoke.  All fears she had about coming down to the basement 
after what she'd seen earlier seemed inconsequential now that 
he had the bit between his teeth. A fresh idea, a new thought 
pushed all others to the back burner as he focused intensely on 
developing the new one to it's full potential.

"So what about the final victim?" she asked as he came to a 
standstill.

"Well he's getting bolder. After the thrill of killing the two 
assailants that broke into his room, a regular pushy call girl 
isn't going to achieve that high again." Finally he retrieved a 
photo of the jeep murder scene and gave it to her.

"So he goes to a gay bar," she concluded.

"Gets picked up by a pushy bartender."

"Rapes him."

"Maybe not rape. The bartender's intentions were clear when 
he took that hour off work that night."

"So maybe it was consensual sex."

"More power. More murder.  The way the bodies have been 
injured during the actual intercourse is reminiscent with 
autoerotic sex but obviously with fatal results." Mulder's 
words were followed by a slap of the pages onto the desk.

"It's a common aspect of sexual abuse. The transference of 
power from the victim to the abuser, even down to the 
elementary school bully."

"Taking the power from those whom he believes are powerful 
to boost his own."

"But his blood was fine. He was B Pos before the murder and 
B Pos after."

"Maybe he didn't need to take it so soon after taking the other 
feed."

"Feed?" she exclaimed with more than a hint of doubt 
tingeing her voice, not to speak of revulsion.

"Listen Scully, what if he needs the blood to survive? We've 
seen it before in people like Eugene Tooms, Rob Roberts, 
Incanto...the list goes on."

"So he's going around sucking blood out of unsuspecting 
sexual partners to stay alive? Should we equip everyone with 
garlic and holy water?"

"I dunno, did you see any puncture wound on the neck of the 
victims?" he bit back, angry at her dismissal of his theory.

"Well no. So you have a pattern to all this?" she conceded 
after the room filled with a tense silence she could bear no 
longer.

"It's not all that clear where he's going next but the transition 
of how he has moved on is there.  I know where he's been and 
how he progressed but his future progression is still..."

" An unknown quantity. This is the hard part Mulder. Go take 
a shower. Fresh head, fresh ideas."

"You saying I smell?"

"Mulder, Agent Colby Randle on the fifth floor is saying you 
smell right now!"

"Okay, okay. Hint taken."

    Scully smiled as he took his jacket, heading to his car to 
pick up a change of clothes before making his way to the 
bureau gym for a shower.  In the empty office Scully sat at his 
desk and sighed at her narrow escape. She was sure he'd try to 
throw explanations at her and she wasn't sure if she was ready 
for them.  The image of Agent Blake groping and kissing him 
was burning like a wraith in front of her eyes; that image 
wasn't easy to forget and would be with her a long time.  But 
she couldn't afford the time to rest now and mull it over so 
instead she pushed it to the back of her mind, as far back as its 
after burn would allow, and rifled through his notes to study 
his train of thought.
    
Just making headway into the rambling notes Scully heard 
footsteps in the hallway outside. Looking up expecting to see 
Mulder walking in, she was surprised and irritated to see 
Agent Blake hovering in the doorway, watching her with a 
knowing smile staining her otherwise sleek features.

"Agent Scully."

"Can I help you Agent Blake?" Scully hadn't intended her 
voice sounding so crisp but she wasn't surprised at it either. 
Blake sidled further into the room and approached the desk.

"I was looking for Agent Mulder."

"You just missed him."

"When will he be back?"

"I'm not sure."

"Oh come one Dana, you don't need to feel threatened by 
me."

"Threatened?" Scully turned to face her fully, amazed at the 
boldness. Her eyes were cool ice as they held the interloper's 
gaze.

"As two strong women in this business we should really be 
looking out for one another." Blake picked up Mulder's 
nameplate and ran her fingers along the raised lettering.

"I'm sorry Agent Blake, if you want to talk to agent Mulder 
you will have to come back later." Scully stood up as she 
spoke and rested her hands on the desk. "Otherwise I'm gonna 
have to ask you to leave, I have work to do!"

"Okay if that's the way you want it Dana." Replacing the 
nameplate back onto the desk Agent Blake smiled again 
nastily and turned on her heel to leave. 

"I guess I'll catch Mulder over at the gym showers then."
    
Scully was about to say something when she decided against 
it. Leaving the tall slender woman to do what she will, Scully 
sat back into her desk and tried to refocus her thoughts on the 
notes in front of her.

Alex Blake rushed up the stairs as quickly as her short 
skirt would allow and crossed the all but empty garage to her 
car. Footsteps behind her made her turn but she saw nothing. 
Her hand fumbled in her purse for her keys, muttering a few 
choice words before she managed to grasp them and pull them 
free.  Inserting the right key, the sound of the stairwell door 
slamming shut made her look around but again seeing nothing 
she cursed her agitation and yanked the door.

The hand that grasped her neck was hard and calloused 
with four fingers pressing roughly into her throat.  She could 
smell the foul stench of old whiskey and stale sweat but 
another hand covered her mouth before she could yell for 
help.

"Get in the car."

A sour taste she couldn't identify penetrated her lips staining 
her tongue. Surprised at the clear soft tones of the male voice 
that spoke, Agent Blake stopped struggling and held still. Her 
mind frantically went through all the combat training 
manoeuvres she could recall until she found the right one to 
apply in this situation, but before her hip could be cocked the 
bright flash of overhead lights glinting on a switch blade 
changed her mind.

"Get in the car and shut the hell up."

    Again the clear voice surprised her but her mind was 
reeling too much with escape routes to contemplate it further.  
She felt a hand on her back push her into the car where she lay 
on the floor keeping her head down.  Feeling her gun pressing 
into her back, where she kept it holstered gave a ray of hope, 
until a large hand yanked her suit jacket up and pulled it out. 

"I was expecting a bit more of a fight," her assailant admitted 
as she felt the car start with a shaky tremor.  "You're Special 
Agent Alex Blake with the FBI. Don't they train you in any 
combat?"

"Let me go," she managed to choke out with her face pressed 
into the car floor.

"I will. When I'm done."
    
She felt the car drive up the incline out of the garage and onto 
the street, but with her head buried so low she couldn't see the 
streets and tried to remember their route by way the car was 
turning and the sound of the engine revs.  

"Time to go to sleep."

    She tried to turn away but a heavy hand pressed her back 
down.  The wiry carpet on the floor of the car scratched her 
cheek as he ground her face into it. She wasn't sure how he 
was holding her down and steering at the same time but every 
move she made to try to break free only made him press 
harder. A cloth doused in chloroform was pressed over her 
mouth and nose and she struggled against it until the light and 
noise faded into nothing, pushing her grasp on reality out of 
her reach.   

***

Scully was totally focused on the screen in front of her 
when the phone rang loudly.

"Hello."

"Agent Scully, have you seen Agent Mulder or Agent Blake?" 
AD. Douglas asked, his anger evident over the line.

"Agent Mulder has stepped out for a bit," she said flatly, all 
the while wondering if Blake had cornered Mulder in the 
men's locker room, only making the lurid image she'd 
banished earlier pop up fiercely to the forefront of her mind.  
"He should be back in about 10 minutes and Agent Blake left 
here about 15 minutes ago."

"I was supposed to have a meeting with her first thing this 
morning but she never showed. I thought they might be 
working on a profile together."

Scully bit down on the first retort that came to mind. "I'll ask 
Mulder if he's spoken to her when he gets back."

"Thank you Agent Scully."
    
Briefly wondering what had made AD. Douglas so angry 
Scully returned to her revision of Mulder's profile. She had 
just finished reading it when her partner sauntered back into 
the office, his shirt closed but untucked and his tie draped 
loose around his neck.

"Better?"

"Much." His hair was wet and unruly but his eyes had taken 
on a new shine as if he had been given a second breath.

"AD. Douglas called. Asking if you had seen Agent Blake." 
Scully blushed slightly as she relayed the message, looking 
down to the open file and avoiding his gaze.  "Apparently she 
never turned up for a meeting and he was wondering if you'd 
been working on the profile with her."

"With Agent Blake? I don't think so." He answered her with a 
bitter conviction she wasn't expecting, making her wonder 
what had happened down here after all.

"You had better give Douglas a call."

    Mulder dropped his gym bag by the end of the desk and 
perched on the corner to reach for the phone. After dialling 
AD. Douglas' extension he listened patiently for his secretary 
to pick up.  Swinging his leg beneath him he purposefully 
brushed it against the arm she was resting on the side of the 
chair, but she moved it away as she reached for a pen she 
didn't need.

"AD. Douglas please...yeah he's expecting my call."

"Agent Mulder."

"Yes sir. You called about Agent Blake?"

"Have you seen her? She was supposed to be here over an 
hour ago."

"She came by this morning and mentioned your meeting.   I 
presumed that's where she was going when she left here."

"She never showed."

"It was just after seven when she left," Mulder confirmed 
glancing at the clock to see that it was just gone eight.

"Okay Agent Mulder. Thanks."

"What's going on?" Scully asked when Mulder replaced the 
receiver.

"Agent Blake never turned up for a meeting with AD. 
Douglas," he said musingly. 

"So I gather."

"Strange.  She seemed so eager to go to it when she was 
here."

"What was she doing here?" Scully asked looking up from his 
PC to see his eyebrows lift at her question.

"I'm not sure exactly."

"What do you mean?" Scully sat back in his chair allowing it 
to tilt as she glanced up at his obvious embarrassment.

"I know you saw what happened Scully. Don't pretend you 
didn't."

"I didn't see what happened but I saw the result."

"The result of her kissing me though, you missed."

"You don't owe me any explanation Mulder," she stood up 
and started to gather the files spread out before them on his 
cluttered desk.

"No I don't, but I want to explain," he urged, grabbing her 
wrist to stop her from passing by. "She asked me to share our 
profiles. I didn't want to. So...eh...she kissed me."

"She kissed you...just like that?" Scully said willing her pulse 
to calm down or he'd definitely be able to feel it throbbing 
beneath his warm fingers.

"Yeah it was weird."

"Been a while eh, Mulder?" she teased.

"Yeah I guess." He glanced down at her and smiled at her 
amusement, trying not to let it bother him he stood away from 
the desk and walked over to the cabinet. "She was acting a bit 
off these past couple of days making...strange comments but I 
just thought...I just thought she was mad at me for taking lead 
on her precious case."
    
Scully shook her head at his obvious reluctance to admit the 
easy attraction he garnered from other females. Most other 
men in his position would exploit such a prowess rather than 
ignore it to the point of non-existence.

"So you think it's an Xfile?" Scully teased as she started to 
rifle through the files, determined to show it didn't bother her 
and that she could function normally without the unwelcome 
image of them kissing floating around her mind.

"What?"

"The kiss," she quipped hoping he'd take the jovial tone 
without delving deeper.

"Funny Scully.  Real funny. Get back to work.  I'm going up 
to the reference library to check something out."

FBI Building Basement Office
9th November 
2.03PM

    It was just past 2 pm when the alarm went off. Physically 
hearing high-pitched ringing bells would have been a lot 
easier than the insistent ringing of the phone followed by 
Scully's soft shocked voice. Her eyes widened as they crossed 
the short distance between them and connected with his.  
Determined to find out what was wrong, Mulder stepped away 
from the desk and approached her, his arms folded tensely 
across his chest and a frown scoured deep in his brow.

"Okay we'll be right there." Already collecting her coat from 
the back of her chair as she hung up Scully turned to face him. 
"Agent Blake is missing."

"Missing?"

"She was abducted from the parking garage this morning 
shortly after...speaking with me. There is a team gathering in 
the conference room on the first floor. They want us up there 
now."

"How do they...?" Mulder asked, his mouth stumbling over 
the many questions his mind was reeling through.

"No one could contact her; her car was missing and her cell 
switched off so Douglas ordered Agent Brian Jones to review 
the garage tapes to see when she left."

"They saw her being kidnapped?"

" Apparently. They're reviewing the tapes right now."

    They rode the elevator to the first floor in silence and 
Scully wondered whether she should offer some sort of 
condolences. Mulder didn't seem too upset on a personal level 
she observed as she snuck a sideways glance at him, but she 
knew no matter what happened he'd take it personally.
    
In the conference room five junior Agents that had been 
working with Mulder and Blake on their current case were 
standing around a few television sets winding and re-watching 
security tapes. AD. Douglas and AD. Skinner stood towards 
the back of the room speaking quietly.  When Mulder and 
Scully entered they were afforded short non-committal 
glances from the agents, but both AD's beckoned them over 
with small nods of their heads. 

"Agent Mulder, you spoke with her this morning?" AD. 
Douglas asked crossing one arm across his chest and lifting 
his hand to pinch his chin.

"Yes she came into my office at around seven. She mentioned 
she had a meeting with you and then left."

"What was she doing down there?" Skinner asked his voice 
rough with morning tension.

"She was asking about my profile and telling me about hers."

"Did she complete her profile?" Douglas then asked glancing 
at Scully but keeping his eyes fixed on Mulder's face.

"I understand she was having trouble with it but..."

"What exactly happened?" Scully interrupted. "Was she taken 
from the garage in her own car?"

"Yes. As you can see from the tape..." AD Douglas led them 
over to the TV set up and asked Agent Jones to rewind the 
tape to the start. "There she is arriving at the garage, 6.30am. 
She is spotted again walking through the stairwell on the 
second floor but then not until..." Jones took the silent cue to 
forward the tape to the right time slot.

    In the scratchy jumpy video scene Mulder and Scully 
watched as Agent Blake walked towards her car. She looked 
behind her a few times then opened her car door. But she 
didn't see the large figure approaching her and grabbing her 
from behind. A heavy anxious silence built up in the room as 
the scene unfolded and the car sped out of the garage.

"What about other cameras in the garage? Did anyone see him 
come in? This is a goddamned federal building for Christ sake 
what kind of security do we have?" Mulder yelled angrily, 
waving his arms about as he ranted before reining them in to 
rest on his hips.

"There was a change of shift, he slipped by."

"Slipped by surveillance cameras?" he countered.

"We are checking them now and hopefully we'll get a picture 
of his face," Jones said as he showed Mulder the other sets.

"I'm going down to the garage. Is there any street surveillance 
on this block?" Mulder was already backing out of the room 
followed by Scully.

"We're on that already, tracking it."
    
Scully followed Mulder to the other end of the corridor and 
stepped into the empty elevator with him. He stabbed angrily 
at the button for the garage level and stood back to lean 
against the rail.

"You okay Mulder?" she asked tentatively.

"Me, I'm fine. But then I wasn't dragged into my car this 
morning and taken somewhere against my will."

"Mulder don't you dare start to take on blame for this."

"Well maybe if I had let her look in on my profile."

"Oh c'mon," she started to argue, but as the elevator arrived 
to the garage and the doors opened three other Agents stood 
waiting to get in.

    Mulder preceded her into the garage and quickly made his 
way over to the parking space Agent Blake's car once 
occupied.  Yellow tape marked off the ground and small 
cardboard markers where possible evidence had been picked 
up. A large heavyset man slowly circled the scene taking 
photos of the tyre tracks as another crouched in the centre, 
writing on a notepad.

"Agent Strafe, find anything?"

"Nothing. Tyre tracks, a partial footprint and a cigarette butt," 
he admitted shaking his head as he slowly stood up and 
approached them.

"But there could be anybody's," Scully concluded.

"Yeah. The best bet we'll have of capturing this guy is CCTV 
on the block, hopefully tracking which way he went."

"Call me if you get anything."

"Sure thing Mulder."

    Agent Strafe went back to his notes, turning his back on 
both of them as they walked back to the elevator.

"Agent Blake was on the news last night," she mused aloud as 
the doors closed silently. "If the killer saw her she would be 
an ultimate source of power for him, would she not?"

"Scully are you attempting to validate my theory?"

"Validate?"

"I thought you didn't agree with me."

"Well I'm just trying to make the pieces fit with what we 
know now."

"Well there's only one trail to follow now."

"The CCTV footage. See which direction they went, at least."

    Back in the conference room Agent Jones had retrieved a 
large-scale map of the entire city and had pinned it to an even 
larger corkboard that AD. Douglas had provided. He was 
running a red felt tip pen along the streets, circling corners 
that another agent called out as cameras were located and 
named. 

"Do we have a route yet?"

"The car was spotted by several cameras but we lost it on 
Madison Avenue." He tapped the map with his finger pointing 
out where he meant. "We're trying to get access to nearby 
CCTV footage but so far no luck. Some of those stores are of 
the adult variety and they are picky over who gets to view the 
tapes."
"Well get a warrant out there if they don't show them to us," 
Mulder barked.
"Already on it."

    Standing at the map Mulder studied the streets following 
the red trail with his finger until he reached the junction of 
Madison and Lincoln. Glancing around the place he searched 
for another seedy motel, a dark alley, a small alcove where the 
killer may have taken Agent Blake but knowing instinctively 
he wouldn't find it.  Scully stood beside him looking at the 
same map, reaching the same dead ends and feeling the same 
frustration.

"It's not likely they went further into town. It's more plausible 
that they went left on Madison and started for I69."

"Has anyone checked Agent Blake's apartment?" Scully 
asked.

"There is a team out there right now keeping watch."

"Can we call her cell phone and trace the call? Localize it?"

"Only if it's turned on and only if she still has it on her, will it 
be any use."

"It doesn't make sense. It's nothing like the previous attacks. 
They seemed so ... opportunistic ...this was premeditated, well 
thought out and executed." Mulder walked around the small 
room again feeling the confines of the small spaces.

"The constant escalation of the murders suggests that he was 
always going to veer off opportunistic killings into more 
organised premeditated murder," Scully asked trying to get 
the focus off Mulder, but he dominated the room with his 
intensity as he paced and spoke his mind.

"Why now? Why Agent Blake? I am lead on this case."

"You weren't talking to the national news station. She was the 
symbol of power he saw," Scully argued ignoring the curious 
glances from the other agents who watched their interchange 
with obvious interest.

"So if this is premeditated, he must have already thought of 
somewhere to take her and her car." He whipped his head 
back around to the map and followed the trail again. "See 
this?  He takes three left turns almost like he's doubling back 
on himself."

"He went down 10th street and could only get there by 
doubling back, no right turn there..." Scully noted pointing at 
the junction she meant.

"So to go south on 10th he must have been heading towards 
Arlington."

"So he would have crossed the toll bridge." Their eyes met in 
confirmation, lingering a moment.

"And there would be footage of that if he did."

"Agent Jones get onto the Road authority and access the toll 
bridge footage. Scully and I will head out there with the photo 
fits."

"Okay I'll call you if we get confirmation."

***

Darkness...

Agent Blake took slow deep breaths steadily drawing 
the hot reeking air into her burning heavy lungs.  Slowly she 
was coming round but she kept her eyes closed, not wanting 
to let anyone know how conscious she was. Her head 
throbbed with a deep-rooted pain that seemed to reach all the 
muscles in her body and it felt as if hot water had replaced her 
blood. 

As her senses clicked on she felt a lump on her 
forehead, a tacky substance she was guessing was her blood 
was pooled beneath her face and she realised her hands were 
tied behind her back, no she decided; handcuffed behind her 
back.  It was then that she noticed her clothes were gone. All 
of them. She was naked. A cold concrete floor offered no 
warmth or comfort and a cold sharp breeze blew in from 
where her feet rested.

"Are you going to open your eyes or lie there all night?"

    Agent Blake slowly blinked her eyes open then shut them 
tight again. Unsure if her eyes were opened or closed she 
blinked rapidly a few times and glanced around in the pitch 
darkness.  A clinking sound to the left made her jump and she 
looked over in time to see a small flashlight shine right into 
her eyes.  Quickly turning away she screwed her eyes shut and 
shielded them as best she could.

"Oh don't hide. Let me see your beautiful eyes."

"Who are you?" she managed to say, trying desperately to 
keep her voice steady.

"I'm the guy of your dreams, the guy you've been looking for 
all these years. The feather in your cap."

"What are you going to do to me?" Her voice scratched 
against her throat as she tried to steady the quivering timbre. 

"Stuff you couldn't imagine honey." The shadow moved 
about the room circling her slowly but keeping the light in her 
eyes. She swallowed audibly.

"They will be looking for me you know. They'll know you've 
taken me and they'll come after you."

"Oh, I'm counting on it."
    
Her body jerked as a cold hand stroked her shoulder and 
slowly made it's way down her side and over her hips, 
cupping her butt and pinching it roughly. She tried to roll 
away from his reach but as his body lingered over hers she 
knew there was no hope. He reached around for her wrists and 
uncuffed one of her hands. But before the glimmer of hope 
could take seed, he cuffed the empty link to a pipe over her 
head and held her free wrist with one hard calloused hand. 
    
Flipping her onto her back he started to kiss her neck but she 
kept her eyes screwed tightly shut against her assailant before 
her. She could feel his lips slowly making their way down her 
chest, over her breastbone and onto her shivering nipples.  His 
teeth raked against her soft skin and it was all she could do 
not to cry out, but the need to leave her body, to remove her 
self from the situation was winning, so far.
    
In her mind she calculated her tax forms, she mentally filled 
in the progress reports she knew were waiting for her on her 
desk but nothing she thought of could keep away the revulsion 
she was feeling at the sensation of his hand nestling between 
her legs.  Her throat burned with the need to scream out but 
her will power refused to show him how scared she really 
was. Wanting to strip him of one thing he thought he held 
over her, she tried desperately not to show the fear or feel the 
pain of his fingers grating along her stomach and digging into 
her slowly. 
    
The pressure was unexpected and she flinched at the foulness 
of his breath as he leaned in closer. She noticed then he 
wasn't wearing any clothes except for a pair of heavy work 
boots.

"You know you're quite a strong woman...I bet you can bleed 
for ages before you die."

"Listen...you don't want to do this..."

"Oh no...but I do." His laugher shook his belly and she felt it 
pressing against her arm but his fingers dug in deeper and his 
tongue rasped roughly against her cheek. "Women have a 
high tolerance for pain, so much more then men."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her eyes screwed 
up tightly against the image he thrust into her face.

"But men yield more power, men take the pain away." 
    
Suddenly he sat away from her and for a moment she dared to 
hope it was over. Until her stepped over her with one leg 
either side of her body, he lowered down and straddled her.  
She noticed in his hands he was now holding a small black 
bag that strangely reminded her of her father's shaving kit. 
From the bag he pulled a straight razor and turned it before 
her eyes allowing the light to bounce off the shiny blade and 
traverse her face before he tossed the bag to the ground.
    
Agent Blake's eyes widened with fright and she couldn't hide 
the fear she was feeling at the sight of the metal blade, but 
instead of striking her as she expected, he swiped it across his 
own chest slicing a straight line almost the full distance of his 
body.

"Oh my god!" she cried looking up to his face only to see the 
expression of joy that rested there. Blood trickled from the 
wound and it was then she noticed the criss crossing of old 
scars covering his entire chest and the new thin red wound on 
his side.

"What are you doing?" she asked unable to stop herself her 
tears mingling with her voice making it shaky and weak.

"Making it better..." He loomed over her and forced her arms 
over her head. Holding them in place with one hand, with the 
other he trailed the tip of the knife over her face, following the 
soft contours of her chin and neck; pressing it harder into her 
as he traced her breasts.  Her eyes followed the knife as far as 
it could but as it dipped out of her sight she screwed them up 
tight and looked away. Tossing her head from side to side she 
tried to lever herself onto her side but his hold on her was too 
strong.

    He shifted his body over hers so that he could separate her 
legs. But as she struggled to move away from him he yanked 
roughly on her arms and pressed the blade into her stomach 
drawing a little blood.   His knee appeared between hers and 
he pried her thighs apart. .Her eyes opened wide and she 
gasped in horror as he thrust into her quickly and heavily. 

    She waited for him to stab her, to feel her warm viscous 
blood spill out over her cold shivering skin, but when it never 
came and he remained still she ventured opening her eyes. He 
stared at her, the terrified look in her eyes instilling more fear 
then she wanted to admit to. She could feel his other hand 
pressed between them holding the knife against her skin. His 
blood dripped from his wound and she squirmed away from 
him. 

"You know this doesn't have to be all bad." Slowly he pulled 
away from her only to make another deep thrust, his eyes 
staring through hers.
    
She tried to look away but the realism that this was happening 
was too much for her.  So she remained in the dream like state 
waiting to be woken up from this nightmare as he pushed 
harder and harder against her, each grind moving the blade 
between them and slicing them both. 

***

Arlington Toll Bridge Office
9th November
3.40PM


    Walking away from the toll bridge office Mulder sat into 
his car and slammed the door shut. Scully followed suit but 
managed to close the door more gently. The key was shoved 
unceremoniously into the ignition and he revved the car 
before putting it into drive and speeding off.

"Mulder it will take time to review the tapes. When we see 
them we'll have a clear picture of the driver. But it will take 
time."
    
Weaving his way through the traffic Mulder drove silently 
back to the Hoover building and returned to the debriefing 
room where the team was waiting.

"He called."
    
Mulder and Scully froze where they stood just inside the door. 
Turning to Skinner who was pacing over at the window they 
waited for him to elaborate. It was obvious he had a headache 
from the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes 
looked tired. Not as tired as Mulder's.

"He called and he wants to speak to you Mulder."

Mulder's jaw muscle clenched. "Me? What does he want? 
How does he know me?"

    Every one in the room was reluctant to admit that Agent 
Blake had spoken about him, but it was the same thought that 
travelled through everyone's mind.

"He said he would speak with Mulder and no one else and he 
hung up. He should be calling back in about 5 minutes."

"What about Agent Blake?"

"Nothing."

    The shrill ring from the phone seemed to silence everyone. 
The tapes they were reviewing were paused, the files they 
were reading were put down and all conversations halted.

    Mulder walked over to it and waited for others to pick up 
other handsets. Finding Scully across the room on the other 
phone she gave him a small nod and he picked it up.

"Hello."

"Mulder." The voice was digitally disguised.

"Yeah."

"You are what I need."

"Me? What can I do for you?" Mulder spoke slowly and 
clearly stalling for all the time he could as the tracer team 
tried to follow the call.

"It should have been you here."

"Is Agent Blake with you now? Can I speak with her?"

"She's...sleeping."

"We can solve this if you come down here and talk to me."  
The voice laughed.

"No, that's not going to happen. How about you come down 
here to me?"

"Okay...where is that?"

"You'll see. I'm not fond of crowds."

    His last words were followed by the sound of the dial tone 
and Mulder glanced over to the tracers but they shook their 
heads sorrowfully. 

"What about that voice? Can it be cleaned up?" Skinner 
asked.

"We can do something with it sir but I'm not sure how it will 
help."

"Do it."

    Mulder said nothing as he stood away from the desk and 
walked out the door. Scully started to follow but she caught 
his glance before the door shut and thought it was better if he 
was left alone. Stepping over to a screen that was showing the 
toll bridge tapes she sat down at a screen and started to review 
and take notes. She wondered when he would stop blaming 
himself for things out of his control. She sighed, afraid for 
him. Already knowing the answer to that.

    In the men's bathroom Mulder cupped the cold water into 
his hands and splashed it onto his face. The sting of the fresh 
liquid rattled his mind as he stood up straight to see his ragged 
reflection in the mirror. Tired weary eyes and a deep frown 
matched the loosened tie and ruffled hair. He felt like shit as 
well as looked like it.

"C'mon Mulder," he muttered ignoring the glance from the 
other agent who washed his hands beside him, he pulled a few 
paper towels from the dispenser and rubbed his face before he 
fixed his tie.  His phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out 
expecting to see Scully's ID flashing but instead he was 
surprised to see Alex Blake written in clear black text across 
the tiny screen.

"Hello?" his heart leapt into his throat at the thought of her 
trying to escape and calling for help but at the sound of the 
digitised laugh it plummeted down to his feet.

"I thought you'd never leave that room."

"What?"

"Simple instructions Agent Mulder. Get into your car and 
drive."

"To where?" Mulder watched as the other agent left the 
bathroom and glanced around to make sure he was now alone.

"Alone. No weapons."

"Where am I driving to?"
(How is this guy seeing what Mulder is doing?)
"Go down Mercy St and I'll call you then. And Agent Mulder, 
If I see anyone in the car with you or see you talking to 
anyone...she's dead."

    The digital voice harbored a worse sense of doom than if it 
were just a man speaking and it was the sense of urgency that 
propelled him out for the building and into his car. Driving 
south on Fifth he turned left onto Mercy and slowed down as 
he waited for another call. Itching to call Scully, Mulder 
fished his phone out of his pocket and was about to hit the 
speed dial button when it rang loudly in his hand. 

"Yeah."

"Tut tut Mulder, I told you not to call anyone."

"I haven't called anyone."

"Take Ohio Drive to the I66. Beneath it you'll find a garage. 
Marlins Garage. Go there."

"I want to speak to Agent Blake."

"You will."
    
The call was disconnected and Mulder toyed briefly with the 
idea of calling Scully but decided against it. Accelerating 
through the traffic Mulder put his phone into the glove box 
and concentrated on driving.

***

FBI Building Briefing Room 7
9th November
4.40 PM


    Scully caught the third glance from Skinner in as many 
minutes making her stand up and leave the room. She waited 
for the elevator checking her watch and tapping her foot. The 
basement office was empty.  Picking up the phone on his desk 
she quickly dialled his cell phone number and waited from 
him to pick up but it rang out.  Confused now she made her 
way back to Skinner, shaking her head as she crossed the 
room to him. A familiar note of worry passed between them.

"He's not in the office sir. I tried to call him but there was no 
answer."

"Where the hell is he?"

"He could be in the men's room maybe you should go 
check..."

    With a small grunt Skinner left but returned shortly shaking 
his head. Reluctant to do so but having no other choice, 
Skinner called for attention and asked the room if anyone had 
seen agent Mulder.

"He was in the bathroom a few minutes ago." Agent Beckett 
spoke up.

"Did you see where he went?" Scully asked. She was startling 
to sense that uneasy fluttering in her stomach, the one she 
associated with Mulder in some sort of trouble.

"No he was splashing water on his face then he got a phone 
call. I left before him."

"A phone call?" Skinner immediately picked up the phone 
and dialled a quick number.

"Did he say a name? How did he react to the call?" Scully 
walked over to Agent Beckett urging him to remember every 
detail of the encounter.

"He didn't say a name and I'd have to say he wasn't too 
pleased about the call, but to be honest I didn't pay attention."

"I need phone records for a government cell phone...Incoming 
calls." 

Skinner barked down the phone his voice carrying all the 
urgency he felt in his body.

"He must have called Mulder and arranged a meeting." Scully 
came back to Skinner's side. 

"Yes he should have- number 987-334563. Ok, thanks," he 
replaced the phone and turned to Scully. "He should have 
come to us."

"Maybe he was being watched, maybe he threatened Mulder 
with Agent Blake's life." Scully heard herself making the 
excuses, but there was nothing that would stop her feeling the 
sharp sense of betrayal that surged through her at the thought 
of him leaving. Skinner gave her a sympathetic look born of 
previous Mulder ditches. 

"Never the less he should have called. You know the drill 
Agent Scully and so does he."

The phone on the table rang again and Skinner pounced 
on it just as Scullys cell chimed in with a tone of its own. She 
glanced at the ID and saw Mulder's name flashing before her 
so she stepped away from the table and out of the room into 
the quiet hallway.

"Mulder, where the hell are you?" she hissed angrily as soon 
as she picked up the call.

"Scully listen I can't talk and I don't have much time but my 
conscience got the better of me."

"What's going on?"

"He called me. He told me to leave the building and to drive 
onto Mercy Street."

"Is that where you are now?"

"No. I'm meeting him at a place called Marlins Garage. It's 
off Ohio Drive beneath the I66."

"Mulder this is crazy? You're going out there alone? Wait for 
backup," she urged wishing she was sitting next to him in the 
car.

"No Scully he said I need to be alone or he will kill her."

"Have you spoken to her? How do you know she isn't already 
dead?" He didn't reply so she tried again to urge him to wait. 
"Just wait for back up Mulder, please!"

"Scully I'm here. I'm going in to see. Get down here as quick 
as you can and keep it quiet."

    He hung up before she could argue further and she turned 
to go back into the room only to see Skinner standing behind 
her.

"I got the number. The call came in from Agent Blake's cell." 
He frowned as he turned to spoke and looked down to the cell 
phone in her hand.

"I know where he is. But we have to leave straight away." 
Skinner put his head around the corner of the door to call the 
other agents.

"Agents Beckett, Cromwell, Jones and Andrews with me."

    Skinner and Scully walked down the corridor and out to the 
FBI garage where the black vans were parked and equipped. 
The four other agents had joined them and as they each took a 
bulletproof jacket from the back of the van as Skinner updated 
them on the situation.

"The suspect is waiting for Agent Mulder in the Marlins 
Garage off Ohio Drive. It's beneath the I66 and Mulder is 
there right now. We need to get there as quick as possible but 
beneath the radar. No sirens, low key surveillance."
    
Skinner got into the driver's side with Scully beside him on 
the passenger seat. Behind them sat the four agents who 
checked their weapons and silently divided up into 2 pairs.

"We don't know the layout of the building or what we might 
meet so full attention at all times on the task at hand. Mulder 
may be in a compromised situation so we want to make sure 
no one gets hurt." Skinner finished his speech and 
concentrated on driving through the traffic trying to block out 
the sound of the bullet clips sliding into place.

***

Marlins Garage
9th November
4.55PM


    Parking the car on the curb outside the garage, Mulder 
slowly approached the building. The windows had been 
blackened out so he could see nothing through them.  The 
door was battered and had seen many years since fresh paint 
had been applied but it didn't look like anyone cared.  
Tapping on the door lightly he found it was open so carefully 
he pushed it a little harder. 
    
The room inside was an abandoned workshop with various 
tools left to rust where they lay. Small slots of sunlight leaked 
in through the dirty windows creating beams of light to shatter 
the darkness. The floor was covered in dirt and sand that 
clouded up around him as he moved.
    
The visibility was really low but as his eyes adjusted to the 
dark he could make out another doorway.  Resisting the urge 
to take the penlight out of his pocket, Mulder fumbled his way 
through the dusty room to the large arched door that was 
partially hidden by a metal tool shelf.
    
With a low creak the door opened and he found himself 
looking down a stairway. Mulder glanced behind him to check 
the route he'd just taken before taking the concrete stairs into 
the basement.

"Hello?" At the bottom of the stairs Mulder found himself 
looking at an archway that had been bricked over. His voice 
echoed around the small thoroughfare but with no other exit 
Mulder started to ascend the stairs.

"Agent Mulder." Looking up he saw the tall figure above him, 
a torch held into his face to block a clear view. Mulder lifted 
his arm over his face to try to get a better look but it was no 
good. He thought of reaching for his gun but with the torch 
beam blinding him he didn't have a clear view, and with no 
hope of getting a decent shot off, plus the undisguised noise of 
a gun being cocked was enough to deter any heroic impulses 
he had.

"Who are you? Where's Agent Blake?"

"Come up Agent Mulder." The voice was grating and harsh 
but the words were spoken clearly and loudly. Mulder took 
the stairs slowly and lingered in the doorway for a moment. 
He squinted to get a better view in the brighter garage but as 
he took the final step into the room, the sounds of the gun 
firing was accompanied by a sharp sting in his chest and then 
blunt pain as his head impacted the dirty ground.

***

Marlins Garage
9th November
5.33PM


    The unmarked black van pulled up outside the garage, 
parking in almost the exact same spot as Mulder's car but the 
doors were flung open wildly emitting the 6 agents.  Scully 
and Skinner took to the front door with Agents Beckett and 
Jones ran around the back of the building to secure any other 
exits, while Agent Cromwell and Andrews stood opposite side 
of the door to Skinner and Scully.
    
Skinner gestured with his hands that he was about to check 
the door. He signalled for the two men to go straight for the 
back wall as soon as it was opened. Finding the door unlocked 
he counted his fingers down from three and propelled it open, 
leaning back to let Andrews and Cromwell in he followed 
them immediately with Scully right behind him.

"Front room clear!" Agent Andrews shouted moving with 
ease around the room to the back arched door.  "Another door 
sir!" he shouted. Agent Cromwell stood with him and between 
them both they had raced through and cleared the stairwell 
too.  Shortly after coming back up stairway Agent Beckett and 
Jones walked in through the front door, shaking their heads.

"No other exits sir. This place is blocked in by three 
buildings."

"Okay well get the forensic team out here and get this place 
combed over. They were here, find something we can use."

"Agent Scully!" Scully turned to se Agent Jones kneeling 
beside the stairway door pointing at something on the floor. 
"Look!"  On the ground she saw a small vial. She picked it up 
with a latex gloved hand and examined it closer.

"It looks like it was from a tranquilliser gun." She looked up 
to Skinner with a foreboding glare but all he could do was 
shake his head. Underneath that cool controlled exterior, he 
knew Scully would be dying inside for her missing partner. It 
looked bad. They both knew that. He put a tentative 
sympathetic hand on her shoulder. A weak smile was her 
thanks. 

"AD Skinner the Forensic Team will be here in 15 minutes."

"Okay check the surrounding area and start the door to door. 
These men didn't leave without being seen...especially if one 
of them was drugged," he added softly.

***

Darkness...

    Mulder blinked against the darkness but then realised he 
couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed.  He tried to 
reorientate himself but nothing was able to penetrate the fog 
of sedation.  The floor he was lying on was cold and wet; a 
stark contrast to the dry hot air that burned his lungs with 
every breath. Part of him slowly became aware that he was 
naked but he pushed the thoughts away in favor of finding a 
clue to his surroundings.  No part of the darkness gave a hint 
of a door or a window and there was no breeze to follow 
towards fresh air.
    
Rolling off his back to try to get up, he found one of his wrists 
handcuffed to a metal hoop in the wall above him. He pushed 
himself onto his knees and shuffled forward towards the wall. 
The handcuffs were tight and he could feel the cuts and dried 
blood on his forearm and in the palm of his hand where it 
must have pooled while he was out.
    
He tugged on the hoop but there was no hope of moving it, it 
only made the cuff cut deeper into his wrist. Rubbing his free 
hand over the ground he found it was loose and gritty like a 
yard, bits of glass and animal droppings ground into his knees 
uncomfortably.  Reaching as far as he could in all directions 
with his free hand and then with his legs he met no other 
barriers.  Afraid to yell out; preferring to keep a low profile, 
Mulder gradually became fruitless in his search for a clue or 
means of escape.
    
Until the door flew open.

"You're awake." There was a disturbing tone of wonderment 
in that voice that Mulder was most unhappy about.

"What's going on?" Mulder ground out, coughing through the 
dusty clouds the door had kicked up but using the light to scan 
the room he was lying in. It was no bigger then his bedroom 
he realised, but a full concrete shell with no ventilation save 
for a small pipe across the room in the ceiling that he doubted 
he could fit his fist through.

"So it's you. You're the lead on my case?"

"Evidently. Lucky me. These little unexpected touches in my 
job make it all worthwhile.  Where is Agent Blake?" 

"You were particularly trusting weren't you?" the self-
important voice droned on. The stranger closed the door and 
Mulder listened to his footsteps circle the room only to hear 
them stop at his feet. "Forget Agent Blake. This is about me 
and you."

"Didn't know you cared. A real Hallmark moment."    

Horrified at the thought of what was about to happen Mulder 
found himself silenced by his fast penetrating fear. The flare 
of a struck match burned his eyes for a second but after 
blinking away watery tears, Mulder saw him lighting a candle 
in the far corner.

"I've been studying you. Watching you." He came back to 
stand by Mulder's feet this time, grabbing hold of his ankles 
he pulled him forward to force him down flat on his back.

"What are you doing?" Mulder whispered through gritted 
teeth, his heart racing madly.

"Much like you've been studying me, watching me. Only I 
had more then just a profile to go by."

"Where is Agent Blake?" Mulder shouted, willing his mind to 
move away from the man that loomed over him and suddenly 
straddled his lap. The feeling of the stranger's clammy skin on 
his bare chest rattled him more then he thought it would and 
he froze beneath him for fear of making it worse. 

"Pleasure in pain Agent Mulder, sometimes it's the only way 
we can feel alive. To be happy for just those few beautiful 
exquisite moments...to feel something...anything for just those 
few minutes...isn't that all we're after?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
    
From behind him Jake produced a small blade. Mulder took a 
breath and prepared for the sharp slice but it never came. 
Instead to his surprise and revulsion he lifted the blade up to 
his own shoulder and took a swipe.

"What the fuck..." It was the sight of satisfaction that caressed 
the strangers face that impelled Mulder into kicking away and 
fighting for his freedom. Even as he could feel the restraints 
against the wall holding him back it all made him fight harder.  
The fist that met his jaw came with surprise and stunned him 
into pain filled submission and he watched as the stranger 
leaned forward to fix his other hand to the wall, unable to 
fight back as the sedative took hold of him again capturing 
him in a narcotic prison.
    
Straddling him again the stranger leaned forward and kissed 
Mulder's shoulder. Nipping it gently he raked his teeth down 
over the Agent's bared chest, tracing a line over the contours 
of his skin with a gentle touch of his tongue, excited at the 
power of his captive's thudding heart beneath his mouth.  

"Mulder...that's a strange name," he muttered, sitting up and 
reaching for the blade again. "You can call me Jake."

End of Part 3 / 6

skinfull@undergroundtales.com

www.undergroundtales.com
From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 15 Aug 2004 17:37:48 -0000
Subject: Pleasure In Pain 4/6 by Skinfull
Source: direct

Reply To: skinfull@undergroundtales.com


BETA IN PROGRESS 4/6
NC-17 Readers Discretion

AD Skinners office
9th November
7.35PM


"Chlorpromazine hydrochloride." Scully announced 
breathlessly as she stalked in holding the file up 
and handing it to him across the wide expanse of 
his desk. "Or Thorazine.  It's very hard to 
describe the effects of this drug without using the 
word zombie, but essentially that's what it boils 
down to. Thorazine is used for the treatment of 
schizophrenia  "

"How much of it would it take to sedate him?" 
Skinner asked as he flicked through the slim file.

"Quite a big injection but that was a 250cl vial."

"Enough to knock him out or at least quieten him 
down."  Skinner watched his agent take a deep 
breath to steady herself.  

"Sedation, lethargy, difficult thinking, 
nightmares, depression, poor concentration." She 
reeled off the effects with a detached clinical 
tone. 

"Wherever Mulder is there is no hope of him getting 
out of this alone."

"We have a visual recording of Mulder's car leaving 
Ohio drive heading north and getting onto the I66. 
But that's all. The toll bridge shows no view of 
his car passing through. The CCTV cameras in a 4 
block radius don't pick him up either." Skinner 
came around to where she was standing and loomed 
before her like a protective sheet of rock. 

"Have they found the car? He's probably dumped it."

"No sign yet."  Skinner rubbed his forehead roughly 
as he battled with his thoughts, dislodging his 
glasses with a stray swipe.

"Agent Cromwell showed me the description of the 
man who was seen entering the building shortly 
before we got there."

"It's the same one. The perp from the murders and 
the NY attacks."

"Sir..."

"Agent Scully you need to be taken off the case. 
This is way to close to you."

"What? N...No sir you can't."

"I can and I will. You know the bureau policy."

"AD Skinner I have been working on this case with 
Agent Mulder from the beginning. With both he and 
Agent Blake gone no one else knows this case as 
well as I do."

"I'm sorry Agent Scully but it's policy." He said 
more kindly,  "You will wear yourself down over 
this and then become ineffective or careless 
through exhaustion. The guys handling this are 
good. I want you to rest up. Stand back for a while 
and let us find your partner. "
    
He reached out and put a heavy hand on her 
shoulder, knowing she'd be back in the FBI lab 
within the hour examining the Thorazine for a 
manufacturers mark and checking sales reports of 
the controlled substance.

"Okay sir I understand I'll step down from lead but 
I won't stay away from the case completely."

"Talk to Agent Andrews. He was working closely with 
Agent Blake."

"Yes sir."

    Taking her folder off the desk she left the big 
room with a swift gait that led her directly to the 
basement office. Sitting at her partner's desk she 
immersed herself in the fresh smell from Mulder's 
gym bag that he had dumped there that morning. 
Glancing around the room the flashing red light on 
the phone caught her eye. She picked up the 
receiver and typed in the pin code for the 
messages.

"You have one new message."

"Scully, listen to me. I don't have time to 
speak..." Mulder voice in her ear seemed almost 
real and she longed to feel his breath accompany 
his soft words. "I know you're upstairs in the 
briefing room so I called here so you couldn't 
convince me what I was doing was so completely 
wrong. Even though I already know it was.  I'm on 
my way to Marlins garage beneath the I66 off Ohio 
Drive. He called me and asked to meet me."

"Oh my god Mulder," she muttered hating his 
impulsiveness more then anything at that moment, 
angrily swiping at the tears that filled her eyes.

"I have the profile saved on the H/D called 
211009mul if you need to see it. That's all. See 
you later Scully...dammit...ok I'm going to call 
your cell phone. I'm nearly there."
    
The message went dead and Scully put the phone 
down. Staring at it for a long moment she willed it 
to ring again and hear him say he was on the way 
back. But it never rang.  Instead she turned to the 
pc and did a file search for the one he just given 
her, smiling a little of the alphanumeric 
significance he'd saved it under.
    
The profile opened easily and she printed off a few 
copies of it. Making her way up to the briefing 
room. Once there, she gave a copy to Agent Andrews 
who thanked her and asked her to join him in 
examining it.

"I understand AD Skinner has removed you from the 
case." Andrews was passing her a cup of coffee and 
joining her at the large conference table as she 
spread the file out before them.

"Yes." She dug her fingernails into her palm rather 
than give in to the tears that threatened.

"Well if you are feeling up to it I'd like any help 
you have to offer."

"Of course."
    
Sipping the hot drink she ignored the burning 
sensation on her tongue, wanting to feel the 
stinging pain to let herself know it wasn't all a 
dream. The pain made it real and pushed her to work 
harder knowing how much worse it was for Mulder.

***

Darkness...

    Alex Blake ran her dry tongue over her cracked 
and bleeding lips. Her body had gone past the 
desire for water and now only wanted to give up. 
Finding it hard to keep her eyes open she rested in 
the darkness, taking what comfort from it she 
could.  The footsteps no longer bothered her, 
giving her instead hope for an ending to the pain 
and horror of what she had come to know.
    
The feeling of a hand clasping her throat was 
welcomed like the touch of an old friend and as it 
tightened she clamped her mouth shut to stop 
herself from breathing.

"You give up so easily." Jake sat over her torso 
and brought his other hand to her breast, kneading 
it roughly. "The fight was half the fun. Without 
the fight there is nothing here."

"...Kill...me..."

"Now, now, lets not get ahead of ourselves. You 
will still have your uses."  Jake pinched her 
nipple painfully making her jerk away from him but 
only making him squeeze harder. The hand holding 
her throat closed a little bit more constricting 
her breathing as he slid down her body, separating 
her legs with his knee.

    Alex stifled a cry at the thought of it all 
happening again but it wasn't just a thought 
anymore when the pressure on her pelvis became 
horribly real. She couldn't feel the blade cutting 
her skin anymore but the warm blood that trickled 
from the wounds was enough and the low chuckle from 
his crooked smile stung more then the blade ever 
could.

"It'll all be over soon Agent Blake."

    His teeth bit deeply into her chest drawing 
even more blood and she couldn't hold it in any 
longer. Her scream was loud and hoarse stemming 
from the pit of her stomach and ringing in her ears 
long after her lungs had expelled all their air.

"Does it hurt when I do this?" he asked her 
menacingly as he thrust into her deeply matching 
his movements with a swipe of the blade across her 
breast.

"Stop please...stop..." she cried unable to muster 
up the energy to fight back with passion, instead 
falling deeper into herself trying desperately to 
be somewhere else, to be someone else.

Darkness...

Mulder's cold and shivering body clutched itself 
tightly against the wall. He knew the general 
direction of the door but not a crack of light 
shone through to help him look around the room. His 
head still heavy from the drugs was wearily leaning 
on his bruised shoulders and with slowly blinking 
eyes he tried hard to concentrate.

Scully stood over him shaking her head in dismay 
before turning her back on him and walking into the 
darkness. Her shadow was replaced by Skinners tall 
shielding body half turned away from him and a 
leering expression of disgust on his face. 

Mulder blinked heavily but the image disappeared. 
He felt his cheeks burning with degradation and he 
looked away, burning his face into the wall. His 
tears mixed with his skin and the concrete but his 
voice was silenced.  His mouth was wide with 
screams but no sound came, his throat contracted to 
hold back his wails as he tried desperately to meld 
into the wall and disappear.

***

Georgetown Apartments
14th November
7.20 AM

    Dana Scully lay on her bed and watched the red 
digits of her alarm clock blinking eights.  She had 
been staring absently at it since 3am when she 
finally crawled into her bed and saw the display at 
4.20 when the power was knocked out. She had no 
idea what time it was now but she was sure it was 
well after seven as the sun was creeping 
traitorously into her room through the blinds. It 
was a beautiful day outside. How could it be so 
with Mulder missing? She didn't want the sun. She 
just wanted her partner back safe and whole.  
    
Four full days had passed since he'd been missing. 
Since he stepped out of the briefing room with only 
a warning glance thrown in her direction.  If only 
she had followed him, she mused again letting 
herself dwell on the prospect for a moment longer 
before throwing the heavy duvet off her body and 
dragging herself out of the bed.
    
She showered quickly, not giving herself the time 
to luxuriate in the warm welcoming water. She 
jumped out and dressed as soon as she could.  
Picking up a plain bagel for breakfast she drove 
quickly to work and made her way directly to the 
briefing room.  Agent Andrews was sitting at the 
centre conference room speaking quietly but angrily 
into the phone, while two younger agents she didn't 
recognise were sitting on the opposite end of the 
table.  When she sat down Agent Andrews finished 
his phone call and turned to face her slowly.

"Good morning Agent Scully."

"Problem?" she asked with a single quirk in her 
eyebrow.

"That was AD. Douglas." 

"Oh?" she flipped open the file they had been 
working on and fiddled with the pages while she 
waited for him to spit out the words he was trying 
his best to avoid saying.

"He wanted me to stop conferring with you over the 
case."

"AD. Douglas or AD. Skinner?" she asked.

"It was AD. Douglas I was speaking to, but I 
couldn't be sure who the order came from."
    
Scully stood and flipped the folder closed with 
annoyance. As Agent Andrews looked up to her he 
noticed buried deep beneath the perfect exterior of 
evenly applied makeup was the weary rings under 
tired eyes and a hurting heart. If they were alone 
he would have stood up with her and offered some 
form of physical comfort, a squeeze of her hand, a 
gentle touch on her shoulder-- hell even a light 
hug but spying the younger men across the room 
watching them covertly and having heard the many 
rumors about Agent Mulder and Agent Scully, he felt 
it would be wrong to do so.

"I'm going to go speak with AD. Skinner. I'll talk 
to you later." 

AD Skinners Office
12th November
10.03AM

"I'm sorry but it's wrong and I won't do it."

"C'mon Walter, you know she shouldn't be doing 
this. She shouldn't be anywhere near this case."

"No she shouldn't...but that's not to say she 
won't."
    
Skinner stepped away from his desk and retrieved a 
glass of water from the jug. He used the time to 
stall his thoughts and calm down his ranting.  
Looking across the room at AD Douglas who was 
sitting hunched over on one of the visitors chairs 
he knew what he was saying was right but there was 
something lodged in his chest, in his mind, his 
heart that just couldn't let himself agree so 
easily.

"Have you spoken to her over the past few days?" 
AD. Douglas asked him, standing up and joining him 
for a glass of iced water.

"Yes I spoke to her last night."

"How can you let her go on like this?"

"She needs to keep working."

"Let her keep working, but get her off this case."  
AD. Douglas finished his drink in one swallow and 
tossed the plastic cup into the trashcan by the 
table.  "Don't do this to her Walter, don't let it 
consume her."

'It will anyway.' Skinners inner monologue supplied 
sadly.
    
With his final ominous words AD. Douglas left the 
room leaving Skinner standing in the corner with an 
untouched cup of water warming slowly in his hands.
    
When the buzzer came to life on his desk it took 
him a few seconds to realise what the annoying 
noise was. But before he could reach for it the 
side door was flung open and Scully marched in. 
Behind him Kimberly flustered, but Skinner excused 
her with a quick nod and she left, closing the door 
softly behind her. 

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Right now." Skinner gestured towards the seat but 
she didn't even pretend to consider the offer.  
"Look...Dana," he began hoping the use of her first 
name might show her he was being a friend.  "You 
can't stay on this case."

"This is the fifth day he's been missing. Every 
hour he is gone makes it less likely we will find 
him alive."  Her whispered plea shattered his 
argument. He looked closer and saw her tear filled 
eyes. Her rampant fears running across her delicate 
features staining her smooth skin with lines of 
worry and exhaustion.

"I said, this is the fifth day Mulder's been 
missing," she repeated a little louder this time 
and with a tinge of anger. "And there has been 
nothing. I thought after his car was found we'd get 
somewhere but...nothing."

"It will take time."

"HE DOESN'T HAVE TIME!" she shouted, glaring up at 
him through her watery eyes suddenly allowing her 
anger to be released if even for a fraction of 
time.

"Dana. You have to step away. Look at you!"

"What?" 

"When is the last time you slept?" Without letting 
her answer he came over to her side and grasped her 
arm to make her face him. "You won't last long like 
this. You are barely eating and sleeping. When you 
do choke something down its not enough to keep a 
bird alive and then you do it only under 
sufferance."

"He wouldn't give up on me," she muttered, trying 
to slap him away.

"No but he wouldn't like to see you like this 
either."  Skinner loosened his grip on her arm, 
letting his hand fall down to hers to grasp her 
fingers. He squeezed them gently. "You need to stay 
away. I'm ordering a leave of absence. I don't want 
to see you in these offices for at least another 
week."

"No. Don't do this to me...to Mulder." she yanked 
her hand away from his touch and backed angrily 
away from him, heading towards the outer door. 
"Take me off the case if you want. Take me away 
from this but you can't stop me looking for him. 
You won't." She fumbled for the door handle and 
swung it open.

"I know." But she was already gone.

***
Darkness...

Alex Blake lay shivering on the cold damp 
floor. Her body seemed to have forgotten it's use 
and she found it hard to focus. Her mind reeled 
through the ravages of starvation but her mind lost 
its track too often to form a thought.
    
The muscles in her legs ached from the constant 
abuse, her back was raw and scraped and her chest 
was littered with slivered slices from thin blades. 
Dried blood caked her skin tainting it a red hue 
but it was too dark to examine closely and she had 
long since forgotten to care about it.  With both 
hands cuffed to a metal loop that was about a foot 
from the ground she could no longer move her 
fingers for lack of circulation. She knew her left 
wrist was broken when he had turned her roughly 
onto her back the night before, but the pain which 
had seemed so excruciating at first was now numbing 
down to mere background noise.
    
Footsteps at the doorway provoked her eyes to open 
but as the door creaked open heavily no light 
followed it in.  Jake stepped into the darkness and 
approached her without saying a word. She heard 
something metal clank down onto the concrete floor 
but she couldn't identify it by sound alone.

"You knew this wouldn't last forever."

"You'll burn in hell for this." Jake giggled at her 
brave words. He struck a match and lit a small 
candle letting the flare burn down to his fingers 
before blowing it out with a sharp breath. 

"I'm not afraid to die or going to hell." She felt 
his hands on her wrists as he fumbled trying to 
release the cuff. "I thought of you last night, in 
violent twists and turns."
    
Alex looked up to him through blank and starving 
eyes, one moment of clarity as she blinked the 
darkness away.  His words were confusing her. A 
mind already confused and starved of thoughts she 
found it hard to follow his madness.

"The world is fucked and so am I." He pulled the 
cuffs away not caring for her wounded, leaden arms. 
He let them fall to the ground, but instead wiping 
the cuffs dry he placed them on the silver tray by 
his knees.
"Maybe it's the other way round, I can't seem to 
decide."
    
He helped her pull her arms by her side and gently 
lingered his fingers over her stomach as if 
remembering a wonderful thought. He suddenly 
started to laugh and it sent a chill down her 
spine.

"They'll come looking for me." She cried when he 
reached for the syringe she could just make out on 
the tray.

"They already have."  He lifted the syringe into 
the light and squirted a bit out to make sure it 
was ready. "Unfortunately...this won't hurt a bit."
    
The needle punctured her skin with ease and she 
felt the hot liquid pressure absorbing its way into 
her bloodstream and making its way up her arm.  Her 
body felt as though it had been covered with a 
heavy blanket and she struggled through the haze to 
keep her mind focused.  Jake smiled down at her and 
she closed her eyes to his image, not wanting it to 
be the last thing she saw. 

Darkness...

"What's her name?" Jake stood over Mulder with the 
blade in one hand and long slim red candle in the 
other. His face was angry made more so by his 
nudity and wide shoulders. With one eye swollen 
shut Mulder blinked slowly with the other to focus 
on the dim light the candle provided. Each breath 
he took was a baptism of agony.
    
His lungs begged for fresh air but he had to 
suffice with only the slow shallow breaths his many 
broken ribs would allow.  Dried blood from his 
tortured wrists was flaking to the ground, the 
slightest movement reopening the wounds freshly and 
causing more blood to drip down his neck chest and 
legs.

"..Who?"

"WHO IS SHE?" Jake shouted, kicking him viciously 
in the side where the cuts from last night were 
still seeping blood.

"I.. don't know ...who you are talking about."

"You think of her when I kiss you. You think of her 
when I touch you," Jake crooned in his ear, 
kneeling down by Mulder's side and running his 
blade gently over Mulder's chest down to the top of 
his pubic bone. "You dreamt about her last night. I 
heard you calling out to her."  Turning away from 
him, Mulder let his face drop onto his shoulder and 
squeezed his eyes tight as much as the swelling 
would allow.  He could feel Jake leaning in closer, 
his hot stale breath on his neck.

"She screamed so hard when I fucked her last 
night!" Jake whispered, letting his tongue run 
along Mulder's ear lobe. "She screamed so hard I 
had to punch her to knock her out, but she was such 
a fighter."

"Stop," Mulder pleaded breathlessly.

"She fought pretty hard but they always lose in the 
end." Jake grabbed Mulder's chin and forced him to 
face him, digging his fingers in. He licked the 
blade as if he were cleaning blood from it then ran 
his tongue over Mulder's cheek.

"What's her name?"

"I don't know who...you are talking about..."

"I saw the two of you together. Last week. Real 
pretty. I thought you'd prefer blondes."

"I don't know." Mulder fought to keep his voice on 
an even keel. Wanting to keep the power he knew he 
didn't have. With little or no dignity left he 
couldn't understand why he was holding on. Scully, 
he couldn't have her here, he just couldn't, it was 
too awful to wrap his abused mind around.

"Scully!" Jake whispered so softly Mulder thought 
it was his own mind calling out to her, but then he 
punched him hard and fast with two quick blows to 
the jaw leaving Mulder lying on his side spitting 
blood from his mouth.

"Would you like to see her? She's not making much 
noise anymore."
    
Mulder watched as Jake blew the candle out and 
walked over to the door. Opening the door didn't 
bring any more light into the room and the instant 
darkness was impenetrable.  The sound of dragging 
was sickening as his mind whirled with thoughts, 
fear of what he might see. 

    Suddenly he felt a naked body, unmistakably 
female, slumping beside him. Then clinking sound of 
the cuffs being reattached to her hands and 
connected to the same metal loop he had been on for 
the past five days.  With one of his hands now 
free, Mulder let it drop down by his side to try to 
get the blood flow restored.

"Have fun."

    Jake picked up the tray and walked out the door 
slamming it shut behind him. Mulder lay still for a 
moment, unable to believe if what had happened was 
real or if it was his mind acting up again.  
Holding his breath to see if the body beside him 
was moving. Her torso moved slightly and he 
relished in it.

"Scully...Scully," he said softly, nudging her with 
his elbow but she didn't move. With his eyes opened 
or closed he could tell no difference so he closed 
them and let his other senses try to find her.

    She slid onto her back with a low moan and with 
his sore and bloodied hand he reached out to her 
face. Finding her cheek he slapped it gently with 
the back of his fingers to try to revive her but 
there was no response. Letting his hand roam over 
her neck and chest he felt the same thin scars he 
had on his own chest and it brought tears to his 
eyes.

"Oh god what have I done." For the first time since 
he had been chained up, through all that he had 
been through, only now he shed his tears with 
abandon. So hard he thought he'd never stop again 
until someone mercifully snuffed him out of this 
nightmare for good.
    
Sometime later.  Sitting up as far as the chains 
would allow he moved as close as he could to her, 
ignoring the shooting pain that scorched his ribs, 
bringing fresh tears to his eyes, he watched her; 
watched the darkness and waited for her soft 
familiar voice to penetrate this nightmare.  But it 
never came. The image of her foreboding glare 
peering at him in disgust before she turned away 
stung him deeply and he smarted for a moment before 
shaking the image out of his mind.

"I hope you never wake up Scully. I hope you never 
see me like this, I hope you stay wherever you 
are...I hope I can join you soon."
    
His anguished whisper echoed around the room and he 
moved his head to bury it on her chest.  Weeping 
openly his voice found his throat and instead of 
swallowing his pain he let it out in all its 
screaming glory. His head pumped mercilessly with 
rushing blood and a pain stung sharply in his 
chest, plummeting down to the roiling pit of his 
stomach where it festered.  
    
When his voice became hoarse and his head implored 
for mercy he took solace from the slowly beating 
heart in her chest.  His eyes became heavy and his 
breathing labored as his body shut down for the 
respite it needed.  He fought hard to keep his eyes 
open but it seemed like days had passed since he 
had shut his eyes and let his guard down.

"I'm so sorry Scully, I never meant this to 
happen," he whispered gently letting the thought 
rankle into his mind.  He fell into a deep sleep 
and eventually when he woke up he was alone.

***

FBI Briefing room
14th November
2.10PM

    Agent Paul Andrews circled the table and 
slammed his fist down on the hard oak surface. The 
files scattered beneath the rush of air and fell to 
the floor but he left them there stepping over them 
to reach the window.

    Looking out over the city below, he rested his 
forehead on the pane of glass.  His breath 
collected on the window blocking the roads from 
view but he wasn't seeing anything so he didn't 
care.  

    He didn't hear the door open or he footsteps 
approach. A voice called out his name but it didn't 
register until the heavy hand touched his shoulder.  
Turning slowly he saw AD. Skinner watching him with 
a concerned look on his face.

"Having trouble Agent Andrews?" he asked his deep 
baritone voice sounding as soothing as it ever did.

"Trouble?" Andrews snorted and stepped away from 
the window. He bent to pick up the strewn files and 
left them carelessly on the table.

"No leads yet?"

"No sir. The car came back clean, as you know. The 
door to door in the area has brought in no leads. 
The public announcement for information has led us 
in many directions but have otherwise been 
fruitless."

"Any luck with tracing the Thorazine?"

"There were 405 shipments of that drug nationwide 
with 60% of those on the east coast."  Agent 
Andrews informed him with a sigh.

"Something wrong Agent Andrews?" Skinner asked 
challengingly. "Two agents are missing, we don't 
have time to be maudlin about what we haven't 
achieved."

"I understand sir but if I had more help-"

"You have ample team members here working with 
you," Skinner began but Andrews stood to meet his 
glare.

"Agent Scully," he said flatly.

"Agent Scully has been removed from this case and 
is off duty until further notice."

"I understand sir but she has-"

"She has nothing to offer you." Skinner finished 
the conversation with tug on his tie. He frowned at 
Agent Andrews for a moment then walked out of the 
room nearly bounding into a younger man who was 
running towards the door.

"Agent Andrews! I think we found something." Simon 
Beckett excused himself past Skinner and raced over 
to Andrews showing him the file he had been 
carrying. Skinner walked back towards them and 
watched as 
Agent Beckett laid out the file sheets on the 
table.

"What is it?" Andrews asked glancing down at the 
table.

"Narrowing down the Thorazine shipments to a 
manageable amount and crossing that against east 
coast deliveries, we came across 15 medical 
institutions that received it. All bar one have 
accounted for the complete shipment."

"Which one?"

"A psychiatric unit in Belmont. After our enquiries 
they have rechecked and found ten vials of 250cl 
each missing."

"So we know where he got it from." Andrews said not 
seeing the wonderful link that Agent Beckett was 
trying to show him.

"They have surveillance footage of the robbery. It 
hadn't been checked before because they didn't 
realise it was missing. And if he needs to get some 
more it seems like a good resource for obtaining 
it."

"Lying in wait for him to run out of drugs isn't 
exactly a plan Agents," Skinner said with a tone 
that conveyed more then his tension.

"No sir but if we can recover any evidence at the 
crime scene, and plant something for him it can 
only help." 
    
Agent Beckett looked from one man to the other 
waiting for a nod to proceed. Without looking away 
from Skinners glare Andrews gave a small nod that 
was enough to make Agent Beckett run out of the 
room and get the forensic team ready.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Agent?"

"Excuse me sir?"

"This investigation cannot fail. Are you sure you 
are ready to handle that?"

"Handle it sir?" Andrews said with a derisive laugh 
as he looked away and shuffled the pages on the 
table. Gathering them up he slipped them into the 
folder and turned on his heel to leave the room.  
"I'll do everything I can to get them back. If I 
have to check door to door, every building in this 
city I'll do it. The question is sir, will you be 
able to handle it knowing you didn't do everything 
you could?"
    
Skinner stared aghast as Agent Andrews left the 
room leaving him reeling in the echo of a slammed 
door. He slowly turned towards the windows and 
looked down at traffic below.  Reaching into his 
breast pocket he pulled out his mobile and dialled 
Scully's number. 

***

Darkness...

"Scully...Scully" he called out in a dry whisper.  
His voice was hoarse from his crying and his mind 
begged for a release of horror. The foul taste of 
blood in his mouth was too familiar but there was 
nothing he could do to remove it so he used it for 
a test to make sure he was still alive. He'd thrown 
up a few times and that taste hung to his mouth 
like a thick shroud to add to his misery.
    
His tongue probed the bruised inside of his mouth 
prodding the open cuts and making him want to 
scream in pain. But as part of his mind worked on 
staying alive, on staying focused the rest of him 
called out for her. 
    
His arms ached to wrap around her, his hands ached 
to caress, her lips ached to say her name in that 
way that would make her smile. But in doing that 
she would be here. Lying on this cold damp cement 
floor with the putrid stench of faeces and blood 
that he had become to familiar with to notice.  He 
was confused as to what was real and what wasn't.

"Too late Mulder."

    Startled by the voice of his nemesis Mulder 
jumped away and tried to curl into a ball in the 
corner.  He kept his back pressed against the wall 
as he made his body into the smallest possible 
target.

"Where are you?"

"I'm right here."

    The sound came from his left and Mulder stared 
through the darkness only to see nothing.  He 
waited for the touch of cold calloused fingers on 
his skin and screwed his eyes tightly shut against 
the onslaught of sensory invasion he was expecting. 
But it never came.

"Disappointed?"

"What do you want?" Mulder asked and even he was 
surprised of the strength behind his voice.

"Something new. Something borrowed?" Jake's voice 
travelled around the room as if it were being 
thrown and for a moment Mulder wondered if he was 
hearing anything at all. 

    The sound of her body hitting the floor beside 
him wasn't one he was expecting. A soft moan 
escaped her drugged mind when she protested against 
the movement. 

"It's a new pleasure Mulder. Like nothing I've 
experienced before."

"What are you talking about?" Mulder asked not 
wanting to know but needing to.

"Before the pain...my pain...your pain...so 
physical. It seemed the only way I could feel 
alive, feel pleasure...just feel anything."

    With his still free hand Mulder fumbled along 
the ground to find her but all he could reach was 
her shoulder with the tips of his numb fingers.

"But now I see it's not just the physical pain. 
It's so much more then that. Last night while you 
cried over her dying, fragile body...I got so 
fucking hot. I never felt that good before, it 
never lasted so long before. I'm still hard."

"You sick fuck."

"But now..." With his hands barely touching her 
shoulder Mulder could still feel her body moving as 
Jake spread her legs and knelt between them.  "Can 
you feel it Mulder? Surging through your body, the 
rage the hate? The futility of it all? Feeding off 
each other and pumping you deeper into the 
darkness?"
    
As Mulder tried to block out the drone of Jake's 
evil monologue, he felt her shoulder jerking away 
from his touch, and then pushing against his hand 
only to jerk away again.  It took a moment before 
Mulder realised what was happening and then 
suddenly it became all to clear. The slapping of 
skin as Jake's thighs bumped against hers and the 
low heavy grunting as he punctuated each question 
with a heavy thrust.
    
Stunned for a moment and frozen in his spot Mulder 
remained still, waiting for the nightmare to fizzle 
before him. It couldn't be possible to be going 
through what he was but every time her shoulder 
touched his hand he felt it burn all the way 
through to his stomach. 
    
The wretched feeling that he was about to vomit and 
the utter uselessness of the situation was 
overwhelming. His shoulders slumped over and he 
pulled his hand away from her. Wanting to help her 
through this, wanting to be there for her and to be 
strong but needing to retreat to survive.

"Don't hate me Scully," he whispered into the 
darkness as he withdrew from her, from the room and 
from himself.

    Jake felt the soft bubbling sensation of desire 
when he heard Mulder crying the night before and 
the louder and more painful Mulder's howls were, 
the harder and more pleasurable his erection 
became.  Smiling and laughing with his release he 
immediately thought of how he could make the 
experience more exquisite. 
    
Now with Mulder's broken body huddled in the corner 
trying desperately to hide from it all, emanating 
even more pain and frustration then ever before, 
Jake revelled in wave after wave of pleasure he 
could feel building up inside him. God he was so 
hard. For so long he had gone without it. Without 
anything. Then at last, redemption.

"You can't stop it Agent Mulder. You can only make 
it better."

    Mulder brought his hands up to his ears and 
pressed them hard against his head blocking out the 
sound of her skin scraping on the concrete and his 
mocking breathless voice.  Rocking softly as a 
small distraction to disguise the noises that 
managed to penetrate his protective hands, he tried 
to ignore the pain in his chest but it became too 
much. 
    
Releasing his grip on his head he was surprised to 
see the noise had stopped.  Holding his breath he 
rolled over onto his back and searched the darkness 
for answers. 

"Thank you Agent Mulder," Jake whispered against 
his ear and Mulder scuffled along the ground to get 
away but Jake's heavy strong hands seized his arm 
and dragged him through the detritus on the floor 
over to where she lay. "Touch her Mulder, make it 
seem more real!" Pulling Mulder's shaking hand over 
her body and rubbing it against her breasts Jake 
laughed softly at the resistance. "Don't pretend 
you don't enjoy it!"

"Stop!" Mulder screamed and he tried to wrench his 
arm away but he was too weak to fight. Jake yanked 
his arm back and twisted it around rolling him onto 
his stomach with the force of the pull.  
    
With his face pressed hard into the concrete floor 
and his arm held up straight behind him Mulder 
couldn't move. Every twist or turn he made only 
sent shots of pain ramming into his shoulder, now 
so breathless and weak he stopped fighting. He felt 
Jake coming closer and stepping over him, kicking 
him in the side, still holding his arm in a tight 
painful grip.

"Do you think you can make a difference here? Do 
you think you could have saved her?"

"I could..." Mulder tried but even he wasn't sure.

"Do you think she was thinking about you?" he knelt 
over Mulder's shivering body and twisted his arm a 
little more. "While I was fucking her? Do you think 
it was your face that popped into her head? Was it 
your voice she heard whispering sweet nothings to 
her?"
    
Mulder ignored the agony and struggled against his 
grasp but there was nothing he could do. Jake's 
knees dug into his ribs, pain shooting fingers of 
white-hot fire all across his chest. The wind 
rushed out of his lungs and he gasped to retrieve 
it.  His heart felt like it had had the life 
crushed from it. Not that he cared now.

"You can't get away. I've not explored my fun fully 
with you yet. I have a creative mind Mulder. One I 
tend to exploit." 

    Jake leaned back, shifting his weight onto 
Mulder's stomach and pulled sharply on his arm.  
White-hot pain blinded him, as his shoulder was 
dislocated, ramming his senses and sending his 
thoughts spiraling into agony laced oblivion.  
Every nerve and sinew screamed for release as they 
exploded with the force of the pain.
    
He could feel Jake's hands roaming over his back, 
tenderly stroking and circling his bruises and then 
following the lines with his tongue.  Repulsed at 
the wet warm sensation he tossed his head away. His 
left arm lay limply by his side useless and 
throbbing, but with his other arm he reached out to 
her.
    
Her shoulder was cold and clammy and still, the 
last one being the worst of all. He wanted to crawl 
over to her, cradle her in his arms and look into 
her pale blue eyes to see the life he hoped was 
still there lingering behind them. But as quickly 
as the thought entered his head it disappeared as 
Jake's hands reached around his hips and lifted him 
onto his knees.
    
The hard floor was already cutting into his tender 
skin making fresh wounds over the old ones.  
Pulling his hand away from her as if it burned, he 
rested his forehead on the ground and interlocked 
his fingers behind his neck not wanting her to 
realize what was happening. Not wanting himself to 
accept reality of this horror. His heart begged him 
to die and his lungs condemned him.


BETA IN PROGRESS 5/6
NC-17 Readers Discretion

***

FBI Building
16th November
7.03AM

    AD. Skinner stormed through the lobby his coat flying 
behind him and his arms marching militantly by his side.  It was 
early for the arriving drones of agents, and he was glad to be 
able to march through to his office without having to plaster a 
placid smile on his face for his colleagues.  

"Walter, Walter," he heard from behind him as he was about to 
shut the outer door to his office. Turning he spotted AD. 
Douglas striding towards him.

"What can I do for you Kevin?"

"Have you managed to contact Agent Scully yet?" AD. 
Douglas stood next to him with his hands resting on his hips.

"No." Skinner opened the door further and stepped in expecting 
the other Director to follow him in. "No I haven't."

"I spoke with Agent Jones yesterday evening and he mentioned 
you were having trouble locating her."

"She was ordered on a leave of absence. I practically had to 
have her escorted from the building."

"But on the other hand her partner is missing. Do you really 
think she would take off on vacation?" Kevin Douglas paced 
the room and walked over to the drinks cabinet where he 
poured himself a glass of iced water.
    
Skinner thought of the three men Scully was probably working 
with at this very moment and thought better then to explain.  He 
removed his trench coat and hung it up on the stand by the 
window. Slipping his suit jacket off he rested that on the stand 
too before claiming his seat at his desk.

"So where is she?"

"I couldn't say." Skinner opened his case on his desk and 
pulled numerous files from it.

"Couldn't say?" Kevin Douglas finished his drink and put the 
glass down on the desk, he stared at Skinner and waited for the 
younger man to look away. But it was he who turned away first.  
He walked across the room to the door and looked back for one 
more glare but it was wasted, as Skinner didn't even look up.
    
The second he heard the door closing Skinner grabbed the 
phone and quickly dialled Scully's mobile number.  He let it 
ring the expectant 20 times before hanging up and punching in 
her home number. Again with no reply he quickly searched the 
employee database to find her mother's phone number that was 
listed in her personnel file.  This time he got a reply.

"Hello?" came the cautious sleepy response.

"Mrs Scully?"

"Yes?" Margaret Scully sat up suddenly in her bed, recognising 
the voice but not being able to put a name to it.

"This is Walter Skinner, from the FBI."

"What is it? Is it Dana? Fox? What's happened?" she clutched 
the sheet to her chest and held her breath.

"I am trying to contact Dana and I was wondering if she might 
be there with you? Or have you might have heard from her?" 

"Dana? No. I spoke to her a couple for days ago but not since." 
Able to breathe now she let the burning air out of her lungs and 
relaxed her shoulders. "Wouldn't she be with Fox?" she asked 
carefully, unsure if it would be appropriate behaviour or not.

"No. Agent Mulder has been missing for the past seven days." 
He explained the situation of the case without going into the 
details, hoping hoped if Dana had told her to keep quiet about 
her whereabouts then this information would convince her to let 
him know.

"Oh my god." She gasped.

"So as you can imagine I really need to get in touch with her."

"I haven't spoken to her. Usually when she is on a case I never 
get to speak to her until after everything has finished up and 
they are back home."  Skinner heard the bed sheets rustle as he 
imagined her standing away from the bed and starting to pace 
the length of the room. "She mentioned a new case last time we 
spoke so I didn't expect to hear from her for a while."

"Do you happen to have emergency number for her? Other then 
her mobile and house numbers?"

"Emergency numbers?"

"I think she has been working with the Lone Gunmen but I 
have no way of contacting them.  Did Dana give you a number 
for them?"
    
The pause before she said anything spoke volumes to him and 
he knew she would give it to him before she replied.

"Yes I do."

    Margaret Scully reeled off the number that Dana had 
obviously made her memorise and said a quick goodbye before 
hanging up the phone.  Skinner held the receiver between his 
shoulder and his ear as he killed the tone and dialled the 
number for the Lone Gunmen.

It rang out the first time so he tried again, this time getting 
answered on the second ring. Two-tone clicks were followed by 
a short silence and then a disguised voice identified the line as 
the Office of the Lone Gunmen.

"Could I speak to Dana Scully please?"

    Skinner could hear a scuffle after his question and before he 
could ask again the voice asked him who he was.

"I am Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI."

"Well I'm afraid we have no Dana Scully working here."

"It is imperative that I speak to her, if it's not going to be on 
this line then can you get her to call me as soon as possible."

"Sorry man you got the wrong number."

    The line went dead and Skinner had no choice but to replace 
the receiver.  He could hear Kimberly in the other room setting 
up her desk for the day and he rested his head in his hands for a 
moment of peace before she walked in with the morning mail.

Too late, he realised as he heard her knocking lightly on the 
door. Looking up he saw her cross the room to him with the 
small bundle of mail and memos for his attention.

"Anything else sir?"

    With a sharp nod Skinner took the mail and Kim turned away 
and walked quickly out of the room. She didn't work as the 
secretary to the Assistant director without realising when he 
wanted to be left alone.

***

Darkness...

    Mulder was beginning to think that the silence was worse.  
Curled into a ball and sobbing softly into the wall, he wished 
for some kind of noise to disguise his weeping.  His mind 
wandered through tormenting images like a video playing out 
into his shredded soul; from days in the basement to watching a 
movie and eating takeaway, embraces shared on his couch. 
Even the odd autopsy strayed amongst the rambling thoughts 
but mostly he thought about the stakeout. The first stake out. 
The first stake out he'd shared with her.
    
Sitting in the car sharing stories with a beautiful woman while 
he nibbled his way through two bags of sunflower seeds. He 
could almost smell the seeds now, their salty odour curling it's 
way around him but then he realised it was his own stale body 
stench he could smell.
    
His dream was shattered by the reality of his surroundings. A 
cold floor covered in his own blood and other odious stuff he 
had no desire to acknowledge let alone examine. His dislocated 
shoulder ached more fiercely than ever before and with every 
intake of breath it felt as if a thousand hot needles were 
stabbing him in the chest.  Or could that just be his heart 
breaking all over again. Cradling his arms carefully across his 
chest he couldn't think of a time when he didn't hurt so much, 
feel so despairing.  He tried desperately to retrieve the calmer 
thoughts he'd bathed in earlier but the sound of oncoming 
footsteps destroyed his hope and jacked up his heart rate.
    
The door was flung open and the light from a powerful torch 
shone directly onto his face. Mulder covered himself up feeling 
the draft on his raw skin like a wave of burning lava.


"Get up." Jake stood at the door and waved the light about 
trying to stir Mulder into moving.

"I can't...my shoulder...feel too weak."

"GET UP!"
    
Mulder managed to sit up and with gargantuan effort he 
stumbled onto his knees. The pain of his raw scraped and 
bleeding knees was too mortifying to dwell on so he quickly 
forced himself up on jelly-like limbs. Feeling alone and 
vulnerable he turned towards the light with a few shaky steps.

"C'mon."

    Jake waved the light towards the ground and backed away 
from the door to let Mulder through into the narrow corridor. 
Immediately and without warning Mulder felt what was left of 
his investigative brain kick in as he scanned for any tiny details 
of the building that he might recall later. If he made it out alive. 
He wasn't even sure he wanted to at this point.  He committed 
what he could to memory anyway: The shoddy concrete finish 
that he hadn't noticed before in the utter darkness of his cell. 
The arched roof that stood maybe a foot above his head even in 
this crouched protective stance. 
    
He imagined it to be a silo yard in a farm or an underground 
shelter but he couldn't see any marks or insignias to identify it.  
Neither breezes here, nor external light could be seen from any 
direction so he figured he was underground and the stale air that 
infested his aching lungs added to this frightening conclusion.

"Where are you taking me?" Mulder asked with a tiny hoarse 
whisper.

"You'll see."
"You wont get away with this you know," Mulder muttered, but 
the effort of talking sent him into a fit of coughing.  He 
stumbled painfully against the wall and wrapped his working 
hand across his chest to stall the movements that were jarring 
his damages ribs. He tasted blood as he accidentally bit the 
inside of his cheek, shivering violently as the cold bit into his 
bare abused flesh with a thousand icy teeth.

"C'mon!" Jake Came up behind him and shoved against him on 
but his legs went out from under him and he dropped to the 
ground, hitting it hard with his face. Jake grabbed his bad arm 
and yanked him up roughly making him scream in agony. His 
shoulder flared up, shooting sharp pains across his chest 
making him cough and gasp for more air. "Shoulder acting up? 
Well we can't have that can we?" Jake laughed menacingly.
    
Jake turned him and pinned him against the wall but Mulder's 
head hung down, unable to look up.  With one hand planted 
firmly against Mulder's chest, he seized his upper arm and 
twisted it a little. Mulder's muscles screamed in pain and he 
followed suit with a verbal scream of his own.

"Hold still...this is going to hurt like hell!" With one swift tug 
followed by a hard shove, the audible "pop" of his shoulder 
going back into place rang out but was drowned by Mulder's 
deafening howl.  His eyes welled up and all the air rushed out 
of his lungs, feeling like he was being ripped apart from the 
inside out. Jake's foot slammed into his captive's stomach and 
he laughed again at the distress he caused, looking on in 
wonder as Mulder lurched over and gagged.  "So fucking hot..."
    
Jake pressed his own body against Mulder's and let one of his 
hands roam down to the agent's genitals.  Mulder whimpered as 
Jake squeezed and at the same time bit deeply into his shoulder. 
He heard a rustling noise, and something being thrown over his 
head, but didn't really register what it was until he felt the 
burning bite of rope cutting across his windpipe, and his head 
being jerked in a direction the rest of his body struggled to 
catch up with. He saw spots in front of his eyes for a few 
seconds as he gulped for oxygen.  

"No time for this now...later...we got other stuff to do first."
    
Mulder was filled with mixed feelings of relief and dread as 
Jake pulled away from him and pushed him forward, the rope 
cutting in with every wobbly step.  The corridor didn't change 
shape as they walked on and soon Mulder felt Jakes hand on his 
back steering him into another small room. The torch flicked 
off plunging them both into sheer darkness making Mulder's 
steps falter. His distressed wheezing bouncing back at him off 
the walls. 
 
"Get in."

    Before Jake had turned off the light, Mulder caught a glimpse 
of the room and saw that it was much like his own. With a 
derisive chuckle he shook his head at his own disturbed 
thoughts. Had it come to this? Assimilating the cell as his own 
as if it were a place he had booked into it voluntarily.  But 
before he could think about it anymore Jake was standing right 
behind him guiding him into the room with one hand on his 
back, reeling him by the rope, and the other finding it's way 
around his body to his stomach, then travelling down to mingle 
with his pubic hair. He wanted to throw up, but couldn't 
summon the energy.
    
Despite the cold, Mulder was surprised to find he wasn't 
shivering but with the revulsion he was feeling as Jake caressed 
him gently was driving his adrenaline through the roof.  His 
body felt as if it were burning, the heat flaring to a painful peak 
wherever Jake's hands happened to touch him. 

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" Jake whispered against 
Mulder's naval. "You're thinking how you wish it was her 
touching you like this."

"...No."

"You're thinking how you wish she was here right now."

"No!" Mulder implored more powerfully now his anger giving 
him new strength. He tried to pull away and almost 
immediately felt all his air vanish as Jake yanked harshly on the 
rope. 
    
As Jake rose up beside him, dragging his tongue over the 
agent's tortured body, Mulder clenched his hands into fists by 
his sides but as the strength drained from his fingers ,they 
slackened and he knew he was too weak to do anything. Jake 
stood before him and kissed his lips softly and when Mulder 
tried to turn away in horror, he gripped his head in place with 
two rough hands, laughing at the red bloody crescents his 
prisoner had dug into his palms. He held Mulder's feverish gaze 
like a hawk as he wrapped the rope double around his fist, 
suddenly yanking him closer.
    
Jakes tongue probed his captive's mouth viciously reaching as 
far back as he could, his fingers pressing into his jaw and 
locking his neck against the dank slimy wall.  Mulder could 
taste the alcohol from him and willed his tears to stay back.

"Fuck her."     Jake whispered the words softly as he pulled 
away from the nauseated agent. "FUCK HER!"
    
With both hands on Mulder's chest he pushed Mulder back, 
letting go of the rope at the same time. With one arm flailing 
behind him helplessly, Mulder was surprised to find his fall 
broken by a mattress on the floor. A muffled moan was heard 
from the mattress when he landed against another body, his 
hand brushing against two legs. Shuffling off the legs he bolted 
forward, unsure of where he was and searched the darkness for 
Jake.  A hand on his shoulder shoved him down onto his back 
where he could feel a body--her body touching him from 
shoulder to ankle.

"I've fucked her already. Many times, sometimes rough and 
sometimes with heartbreaking sweetness..." He added 
conversationally,  "and I've fucked you...now maybe it's time 
for you two to have fun. Come on you've wanted this. 
Fantasized about this. Jerked off to the thought of her naked 
and writhing under you.  I'm trying to be nice...Fuck her now!"

"No you can't make me!" Mulder's stony voice was low and 
menacing, but even still at the back of his mind he knew there 
was no escape.

"If you don't, I'll kill her slowly and fuck you again.... and 
again! And I'll cut you while I do it and suck the blood out of 
you as I take you."

Mulder started to sit up but the before his head could leave the 
mattress a hot stinging pain tore through his shoulder.  The 
sharp ting of a blade hitting the concrete made him freeze. 

"I'll keep stabbing you till you fuck her!" Jake growled 
menacingly and Mulder noticed his voice was circling the 
mattress. "You can do it while she's alive or dead...I don't 
care...Either way you will do what I fucking tell you. "

"No I can't...kill me if you have to-" Mulder protested but his 
voice was obscured out by the harsh loud bark of Jake laughing.

"Kill you? No way you're way too much fun. I'll kill her. Then 
MAKE you fuck her..."
    Mulder let his head roll back against the bed and closed his 
eyes. With the silence in the room and the soft but lumpy 
mattress underneath him he could almost believe he was lying 
at home on his own couch. But the stale smell that stained the 
air brought him back to reality accompanied by the hefty 
prodding Jake gave him in the ribs with his foot.  Mulder rolled 
over onto his side and faced her. As his eyes adjusted to the 
dark he could barely make out the curve of her shoulder and 
with one shaky hand he reached out to touch her. A single tear 
fell from his eye.
    
Her skin was cold and clammy to his touch but he imagined his 
own to be the same.  His fingers trailed their way across her 
protruding scapula bone to her neck. He noticed immediately 
the chain that held the gold cross around her neck was missing 
and his frown creased even deeper as he struggled to find her 
pulse. But the tiny beat, beneath the corner of her jaw that was 
too slow and weak for his liking made him for a second 
delighted to see she was still alive and at the same time 
despondent.
    
Over her mouth he felt duct tape reaching from cheek to cheek. 
Some of her hair stuck down with it. He felt for it's edge but as 
he tried to peel it away Jake started to laugh.

"Do you think it'll make a difference to hear her talk? Will her 
voice make you hard enough to fuck her?"

    Ignoring the voice, Mulder carefully peeled the tape away 
from her mouth and let his fingers settle, barley touching her 
lips. He wasn't surprised at how dry and cracked they were and 
he wanted to roll her into his arms and take her from this 
nightmare. But he was afraid to touch her more than tentatively; 
irrationally afraid he might break her. His heart's painful 
thudding seem to be saying the she was broken already.

"Scully..." he whispered against her ear and almost instinctively 
one of his legs came up to cover her. Resting his thigh across 
her pelvic bone and one arm across her breasts he covered her 
as much he could before saying her name again. "Scully?" He 
hoped his body could afford a little warmth or comfort,
    
His free hand brushed her tousled hair from her face, smoothing 
it out behind her head but still she made no response. She was 
so still now; like she was dead and that thought pierced him 
straight in the heart. He stayed where he was for a moment 
protecting her as much he could, whispering softly into her ear. 
Murmurs to keep her mind off the nightmare she was living. 
Half hoping she was dead and away from all this horror, and 
despair at how alone he would feel if she was gone. He didn't 
even know if she could hear him. He imagined she was so 
drugged she wasn't aware of anything around her and he was 
grateful for it. Almost lying in the recovery position over her he 
suddenly realised that her feet were touching his and her head 
was right next to his brow. 
    
He'd always noticed how Scully could change her height 
depending on the shoes she was wearing. But working with her 
at home, or while watching a video, when and she'd slip off her 
shoes, wiggle her stockinged feet and stretch them out onto a 
table in front of them; he always loved the way they only came 
up to his shin.  Then as the hours passed she would slide lower 
on the couch and turn her feet towards him as she rested her 
head on his shoulder.
    
He lifted his hand up to her face again and let his fingers 
explore her features. Trying hard to keep his weakened mind 
focused, he shut his eyes tightly.  Her hair was a little rough and 
matted with blood and other stuff he hated to think about, but 
he imagined if she'd been getting the same treatment as he was, 
it wouldn't be at it's softest.  Her nose, lips and chin were 
scrapped, cracked and bloody but he couldn't tell if it really was 
her or not.
    
Then he moved his foot a little more and felt her toes. She was 
definitely as tall as him. Sudden realisation burned his resolve 
and he cursed himself for getting dragged into the deception.

"No." He cried out flatly holding her even closer if he could, 
and trying to protect her even more.

"What?" Jake demanded incredulously, looming over him; 
Mulder could sense him. Mulder heard him walking over and 
braced himself for the attack.

"It's not her. I won't do it."
    
Jake barked out a harsh sharp mirthless laugh that carried only 
rage. 

"So if it was her you would?" He grabbed Mulder's arm and 
pulled him away from her viciously. Her body fell limply from 
Mulder's arms as he was dragged across the gritty floor to the 
other wall.
    
He listened to Jakes footsteps as he crossed the room and 
rummaged through a bag of some kind. The torch he lit was 
wide and powerful lighting up the room more then Mulder had 
ever seen it. He squinted against its painful intrusion like he'd 
been shot.
    
Crumpled in a messy pile against the other wall was Blake's 
battered and bloodied body.  Her abused form lay in an 
awkward position with her arms flung over her head and her 
legs bent like a rag doll's beneath herself.
    
His chest hitched as his eyes took in the scrapes and bloody 
stab wounds he imagined matched his own back and was 
covered in. He closed his eyes to look away from the horror.  
Ashamed at the sense of relief he was feeling when he saw the 
tall slender brunette lying on the floor, instead of his Scully, he 
tried to lurch away from her.
    
Jake stalked over to him with the torch and shone it directly 
into his face burning his eyes even though they were closed. 
With a closed fist he swung his arm in an uppercut motion, 
connecting with Mulder's jaw. His head flew back with the 
impact and connected with the concrete wall. Shakily leaning 
forward Mulder spat the blood from his mouth and looked up to 
Jake's madly smiling face.

"You think it's over?" Jake laughing again, a shrill sound 
Mulder hated.

"It is over. Fuck you, I won't play...your games, you sick 
fucking moron."

"No. Not by a long shot."

    Jake grabbed him by the hair and dragged him back over 
towards Blake's body. Mulder held onto his grip holding his 
arm in place to save himself the pain of the rope digging into 
his neck, but as Jake released him and threw him to the ground 
there was nothing he could do to stop his face connecting with 
the floor in a horrendous crescendo of pain.

    Jake stepped over Blake's cold body and straightened her legs 
out. He straddled her, bracing himself with a knee either side of 
her torso and grabbed her face roughly.  
    
Spitting out even more blood and wiping his mouth with the 
back of his hand, Mulder looked up in time to see Jake's face 
contorting angrily. His fingers and hands shook with the force 
of his grip on her face, fingernails causing bloody welts on her 
cheeks and Mulder's mouth open up in a silent scream. Mulder 
watched as the wounds on Jake's body started to heal over and 
Blake's wounds began to bleed profusely.

Blinking through the pain and confusion rife in his head, 
he looked closer to see if he was really seeing what was 
happening. Then suddenly Jake's body slumped heavily over 
hers covering her upper body and breathing deeply. A damp 
sweaty brow glanced over towards Mulder and he smiled a 
wide wicked grin that spilt his face in a grotesque caricature.

Panting heavily Jake pushed himself back onto his 
haunches and looked over to Mulder's astounded face. Letting 
his hands roam over the fading cuts on his chest Jake looked 
down to see the last of them disappear.

"What's going on? ...What the fuck are you?" Mulder blurted, 
backing away from him as his captor moved slowly off her 
body.  He could see her face with her glassy unmoving eyes and 
parted lips and he knew as surely as the stomach dropped out of 
him, she was gone.

"Much...better..." Jake crooned between breaths.
    
He crawled after Mulder for a moment on all fours, but as the 
mortified agent hit the wall with nowhere else to go Jake halted 
his pursuit.  He hung his head low for a few moments and 
Mulder knew he was gathering strength by the mad stare and 
the almost luminous whites of his eyes. Whatever power he 
gleamed from Agent Blake's dying body, Mulder realised it 
would take time for it to work fully. He knew he had a chance. 
A chance to fight back. A chance to fight at all. And he had to 
take it with what little strength he still possessed.
    
Placing both of his hands onto the wall behind him and rolling 
onto the balls of his feet Mulder prepared to pounce.  Counting 
himself in and shaking the fear from his scattered mind he 
propelled himself off the wall. Emitting a raw howl, he grabbed 
Jake's shoulders and pushed him down onto his back while 
driving his knee high into his chest. 
    
Mulder's knee hit Jakes breastbone and moved up to connect 
with his chin throwing his head back to impact heavily with the 
floor.  Still screaming, Mulder punched him in the face and held 
his arm back to hit him again.
    
But Jake's hand came up and blocked it. He held Mulder's fist 
in the palm of his hand and tossed him back with enough force 
to throw the Agent off him completely. Mulder fell back onto 
the ground and braced himself for the onslaught but Jake never 
followed through. 

"You're a fighter?" Jake's mocking laughter stung his ears. 
"Why are you only fighting now?" Jake stood over him and 
gave him a vicious kick in the back. "Why haven't you been 
fighting all this time?"
    
Mulder knew he was trying to break his spirit, trying to make 
him weaker mentally as well as physically. Making him feel 
like it was his own entire fault he was in this situation and that 
there was no hope for redemption. He tried hard not to believe 
him, not to listen to his cutting words but it was no use. He 
already believed it was his fault.
    
Jake kicked him again and again in the back, chest and head. 
Mulder's mouth filled with blood that dribbled helplessly from 
his parted, dry lips, spurting with every kick he received in the 
chest.  His head thumped mercilessly against this latest savage 
beating, but even as he tried to cover himself with his arms he 
felt his shoulder pop and the pain intensified across his chest.
    
Jake stepped back; panting from the beating he was giving out, 
he wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm and knelt down 
beside the silenced agent. Twisting the rope again tightly in his 
hands and pulling, Mulder's one working eye acknowledged.


"How does it feel to be the reason she died?" He whispered into 
his ear, licking the side of his bloody face as he stood.
    
Mulder shuddered against the contact, his head ducking 
involuntarily under his arm. The blood he could taste was 
making him nauseous but he didnt think he had the strength left 
to vomit. It was a Herculean effort just to breathe. He tried to 
stay awake as Jake grabbed his hair and dragged him out of the 
cell but as his limp and beaten body was thrown into his own 
stinking hovel again, he met the ground with a dark 
unconscious, feeling nothing anymore.

***    

FBI Building
19th November
10.04AM

    AD. Skinner stormed through the halls ignoring the curious 
glances from the other agents. Opting for the stairs, he pounded 
his way up to the third floor hoping the delay would give him a 
chance to cool down but instead with every step he took his 
anger grew fiercer.  He barged through the stairwell door onto 
the third floor and took a sharp left past the coffee dock and 
into the conference room. 
    
Agent Andrews looked up startled as the AD. paced towards 
him staring at him evenly and slammed his hands onto the table 
in front of him. 

"AD. Skinner...what can I do for you?" Andrews asked calmly.  
All the other agents in the room stopped what they were doing 
and turned to the scene waiting to watch it unfold.

"Where is she?" Skinner asked quietly but his voice was 
dripping with barely controlled anger through his clenched 
teeth.

"Sir?"

"Where is she?" he repeated this time a little louder. "Where is 
Agent Scully?"

"You sent her away from this case on a leave of absence." 
Andrews replied accusingly.

"I know you've been working with her." For a second or so 
Andrews was mesmerised by the pronounced twitch of 
skinner's jaw.

    Taking a measured breath, Agent Will Andrews stood away 
from the table and led AD. Skinner into a side room where the 
projector was stored. The tall AD. watched him struggle with 
his words for a moment and in an instant felt his anger 
dissipating.

"She asked me not to tell you."

"I know. I knew she would. But this is gone beyond the usual 
behind the boss' back."

"Sir, she's been working with me and Agent Beckett on the 
case. Most of the progress we've made with the Thorazine angle 
was because of her."

"Where has she been working?"
"I'm not sure. She wouldn't tell me but she has access to a lab." 
Andrews ran a stray hand through his tousled locks and looked 
up to Skinner's angry, worried face. "We've been meeting and 
exchanging information but she's been doing the brunt of her 
work alone...or rather without FBI recourses."

"Ok. I know who she is working with but I'm not sure of the 
exact location. Next time you're talking to her can you get her 
to call me. It's urgent."

"It's been ten days sir." Andrews reminded quietly before 
Skinner could turn away. "Ten days since he went missing and 
no phone calls, no notes or warnings. Demands" Skinner looked 
like he'd been sucker punched.

"I know." Skinner looked down to the ground and imagined for 
a moment the horror she was going through...dear god and 
Mulder. Burying herself in the case in the hope to uncover that 
vital clue that no one else could, the dismay of not being with 
him before he was gone and the repulsion of going on without 
him, giving up, closing the case and moving on, without 
knowing his fate. Not that she ever would, he realised. "Ask her 
to call me as soon as she can."
    
Skinner retreated through the door, his gait out of the room 
slower than when he entered with, his head hung a little lower 
and his mind elsewhere.

***

Office of the Lone Gunmen
19th November
10.30AM

    Frohike stretched out lazily on the small lumpy couch and 
wrapped the woollen blanket a little tighter around his cold 
body. On the floor next to him was Langly who was leaning on 
a cushion but without a blanket, he held his arms across his 
chest to keep the cold at bay. 
    
From his vantage point at the desk, Byers could see them both 
but he declined the offer from Frohike to bunch up and make 
room for him. Instead he stayed by his PC and worked with 
Agent Scully through the whole night. It was 3 or 4 AM before 
the others crashed onto the couch and floor but he imagined 
they'd be up soon.  Another sigh of frustration from Scully 
brought his focus back and he turned to see her burying her 
head into her hands.

"Agent Scully?" he asked tenderly. "You okay?"

"Yes. I guess I just need another hit of coffee." She replied 
weakly. Her complexion was paler then usual, her eyes without 
their sparkle and her lips without a smile. He watched as she 
stood away from the table and made her way over to the 
makeshift kitchen and poured yet another cup of tepid coffee 
only to go back to her PC and focus on it again.

"Maybe you should get some rest." He ventured carefully. Last 
night when Frohike had offered her a lift home to get some 
sleep she had all but shouted at him that she wouldn't be 
sleeping till it was all over.

"No. I can't." She whispered in reply keeping her eyes on the 
screen. 

"Agent Scully..." Byers said after a long silence. "It's been ten 
days since he went missing."

"Does that mean we should give up?" She bit back angrily. 
"Would he give up on me?"

"No. No he wouldn't." Byers conceded, tuning back to his pc as 
the phone rang loudly between them making them both jump. 
"Hello?" Byers asked cautiously knowing Langly would kill 
him for not switching on the line tracer.

"It's Agent Andrews. I need to speak to Agent Scully."
    
Byers covered the mouthpiece on the receiver with the palm of 
his hand and passed it over towards her. "It's Agent Andrews. 
He wants to speak to you!"

Taking the phone Scully stood up from her chair and brushed 
the loose hair behind her ear. "Agent Andrews. What is it?"

"AD. Skinner wants you to call. He says it's urgent."

"What has he got?"

"Nothing. Except a whole lot of anger."

"Did Agent Becket come up with anything on the robbery 
tapes?"

"He got the image cleaned up a lot and it's a definite match. He 
also lifted two partial prints from the boxes he left behind."

"Any match yet?" she asked hopefully but already knowing the 
answer.

"No," came the reluctant reply.

"I'm going to see Skinner now. Let me know if anything comes 
up."

"Of course."

    Scully handed the phone back to Byers and slipped on her 
jacket. She ran her fingers through her hair a couple of times 
and dry washed her face to stay focused.

"I have to go for a while."

"Ok. We'll keep checking the Thorazine angle. I know we're 
missing something there," Byers said glancing up timidly as she 
walked away. As she shut the door behind her Frohike jumped 
up, his hair awry and his glasses crooked on his face.

"Where's she gone?" he asked immediately. Worry lined his 
face regarding his two hurting friends, the one just left and the 
one...still missing, going through god knew what.

"She got a call from Agent Andrews and had to leave. 
Something is up."
    
***

Darkness...

    The smell was different. It was the first thing he noticed as 
his mind struggled to catch up with his badly beaten body. His 
left eye had been swollen shut and the shoulder that had been 
dislocated pumped burning pain across his chest. The skin 
across his throat was raw from the rope, and it made him gasp 
as he tried to swallow, but through it all he locked onto the 
knowledge that the smell was different. 
    
With great effort he managed to open his right eye and hold it 
open long enough to scan the room.  It was a smaller room then 
he was usually in and there was a thin shaft of light blasting 
through a small window that was in the middle of the opposite 
wall near the ceiling. The filthy room was completely empty 
and the only exit was a large wooden door to his left.
    

Mulder let his head drop down to the ground and let his lungs 
take in as much of the stale air as they could before expelling it 
slowly through his dried, cracked lips.  Running his tongue over 
them did nothing so he concentrated on his breathing and tried 
to ignore the pain that seeped into every muscle in his body. His 
legs were like lead weights, bruised and battered and useless.  
Lifting his head enough to look down to his toes he wiggled 
them lightly and smiled at their little dance. 
    
Beside him his arm was stretched out, his shoulder at the 
awkward angle he recognised from before.  Not daring to move 
it he quickly assessed the rest of his body, finding his ribs 
excruciatingly painful and sore and deep wounds still bleeding 
from his shoulder, close to his old bullet wound. 

    Letting his fingers trace the uneven edges of the old scar he 
was reminded of Scully's face. The sad and worried smile on 
her lips as he came to and she'd tended his injuries and cared 
for him. But she wouldn't be fluffing his pillows for him this 
time, he realised with a sigh as his head dropped to the ground 
again with a heavy thud.    
    
He took a few more breaths then with one sharp intake he 
somehow pushed his body from the ground and sat up. His 
shoulder flared up in protest but he ignored it, using the 
adrenaline rush to push himself onto his knees, hissing at the 
discomfort.  His left arm hung limply by his side as he used the 
other to balance off the wall and attempt to stand up.
    
The room swam in a wave of blurriness and multicoloured 
abstraction, spinning like a merry- go -round gone crazy as he 
tried to steady himself but before he could stop it the 
groundswell of nausea pushed it's way up from his empty 
stomach.  He buried his face into his shoulder, holding his 
mouth tightly closed but there was nothing his body could do 
against the tide of vomit. 
    
Still holding onto the wall he coughed up the vulgar mixture of 
bile and blood, coughing in spasms as his stomach continued to 
rebel painfully even though there was nothing left to throw up.
    The hacking coughs forced him to take deeper breaths than 
he would have liked, the taste of the bad musty air almost 
sending him into nauseous convulsions again. But he somehow 
managed to stave them away, riding out the pain in his ribs 
from his stomach contents exodus.  
    
Careful to avoid the mess he'd left on the ground he inched his 
way back across the room and stood beneath the window.  
Standing up as straight as he could he reached up but couldn't 
reach the ledge. He didnt have the strength to jump up but even 
if he had, he knew he was in no state to hold himself up to look 
out. His legs were threatening to buckle beneath him and his 
heart gave a sickening lurch as what he'd been subjected to 
played out in his mind's eye like a horror movie.
    
With his back against the wall he slid down to the ground and 
stretched his legs out in front of him. His breathing became 
ragged and shallow as he remembered the sensation of her 
blood splattering onto his skin.  Her cold body jerking and 
kicking away from him as Jake attacked her with the knife...and 
the awful knowledge and guilt that there was nothing he could 
do.
    
The relief that washed over him when he realised it wasn't 
Scully was palpable but it was quickly dismissed by the 
overwhelming feeling of guilt that heightened with every swipe 
of Jake's knife into her torso. All this time when Agent Blake 
had been lying next to him, all he could think of was Scully and 
how he could save her. Never once did his mind wander 
towards Agent Blake and wonder how she was surviving or if 
she had managed to at all.
    
His body shook with tears that he'd been holding back but now 
suddenly didnt have the strength to.  But even as he cried he 
knew there was hope. More hope then he had felt since he'd 
entered this nightmare.  If Scully wasn't lying beside him last 
night and wasn't trapped somewhere in this prison then she was 
out there. Looking for him.

***

The end of part 5.

Part 6a 
***

FBI Building
19th November
11.40AM

    Skinner opened the door immediately after Scully 
gently knocked on it. His face was screwed up with 
worry and anger and she wasn't entirely sure if it 
was all directed at her. He took her by the elbow and 
led her over to a corner of the office where he 
poured her a glass of water all without speaking.
    
She silently took the drink and walked with him back 
to his desk where he sat next to her in the visitor's 
seats.  Worried now she put the drink on the desk and 
turned to face him, wanting to meet whatever he had 
to say face on.

"What. Say it. Just say it." Her eyes closed over to 
block out the image of his anxious face and her heart 
braced itself for the ambush of emotions she was 
going to have to hold back.

"I think he has got someone working on the inside."

"What?" Flinging her eyes open she fixed him with an 
angry incredulous glare.

"There have been some discrepancies in the case." AD 
Skinner stood up and walked around behind the chairs 
where his hands found their way to his hips and he 
paced slow even steps across the calm cream carpet. 
"It's not clear exactly what has happened but some 
evidence is missing. Some of the CCTV tapes have been 
tampered with and all records of Mulder's phone calls 
have disappeared."


"Who?" she choked out, standing now she watched him 
pace like a caged animal.

"I don't know. But it goes right back to the start of 
the case. Even before Mulder was assigned. I think 
that's one of the reasons he was having trouble with 
the profile. So much conflicting information and with 
parts of it absent."

"Agent Blake?" Scully queried carefully.

"No. It's higher. It has to be. She was tracing the 
same cold trails Mulder was."    Skinner walked 
around to his own side of the desk and slumped 
heavily into the seat. His glasses were pulled off 
roughly and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his 
hands. "I'm going to call Agent Andrews in here and I 
want you two to see if you can find out what's going 
on."

"Yes sir."

"Kim, can you call Agent Andrews and ask him to come 
up here immediately please?" he said into the 
intercom.

"When did you notice the discrepancies sir?"

"The night before last. I was reviewing a report from 
Agent Beckett and I pointed out to him that there 
were tapes missing. He said he hadn't reviewed those 
tapes. When we went down to the evidence storage to 
retrieve them they were gone."

"And the cameras in the storage room showed nothing?" 
Scully asked her mind whirling with new information.

"They malfunctioned between the hours of 3 and 4am."

"If he called Mulder using Agent Blake's phone did 
someone trace the other calls from that number?"

"Yes. Agent Andrews was working on that but it ran 
cold. With a cell phone it's always harder to trace, 
but just when he thought he might be getting 
somewhere the trail dropped out from under him."

"More tampering?" 

"Yes. It has to be."
    
A sharp knock on the door preceded Will Andrews's 
brisk entrance. He started at the sight of Scully 
sitting across from Skinner who was replacing his 
glasses and gesturing towards the chair next to her.

"There is a problem with the case."

"Sir?" he glanced between them both questioningly and 
waited for one of them to continue.
"Someone on the team has been feeding information to 
the suspect, tampering with evidence and even 
removing some from the investigation altogether." 
Skinner watched him carefully for a reaction but 
Andrews' face darkened in anger, the same anger he 
felt when he himself found out, he realised.

"What?" Sitting up straighter Andrews leaned forward 
as he spoke to Skinner.

"There are tapes missing. And Mulders phone records."

"Has someone checked the evidence room cameras?"

"They were malfunctioning."

    Agent Andrews stood up form the chair and walked 
away from the wide desk shaking his head in 
frustration. With his hand running rampant trails 
through his hair he turned on his heel to face them 
both.

"This is crazy. This case has been going on since the 
assaults in New York 2 years ago. Why now?"

"The escalation of the crimes only started a couple 
of weeks ago." Scully added. "It's only recently that 
he has resorted to murder. Possibly because of a 
contact-"

"So you are saying someone deliberately went to seek 
him out to get Agent Blake? Agent Mulder?"

"Possibly. It's a theory. Wouldn't be the first time 
this has happened." Scully defended sadly. "Maybe it 
had nothing to do with Mulder. Maybe Agent Blake was 
the prime target."

"Maybe Agent Blake was the bait for Agent Mulder," 
Andrews countered. "If it was someone who knew his 
work, her work-"

"Have we reviewed her other cases?" Scully asked 
looking between them both.

"Get on it." Skinner barked as he picked up the phone 
and dismissed them with a curt nod. Knowing he didn't 
need to tell them to keep it under wraps he waited 
for their exit before dialling the internal 
extension.
"Hello. AD Barnes's office." The curt reply was from 
an elderly receptionist.

"This is AD. Walter skinner. I'd like to talk with 
Robert please. Is he in?"

"He's in a meeting at the moment. Can I ask him to 
call you back?"

"Please. Would you tell him it's urgent?" Skinner 
implored. 

"Yes sir."

    Sitting back in his chair with the phone resting 
on its hook he watched it. Waiting for it to ring. 

***

Darkness...

    Jake rolled out of the camp bed and slipped on a 
pair of boots.  He loved the feel of the cold air on 
his bare skin, and stood stretching by his bed to let 
the currents of air from the half open window caress 
his body.  Still smiling as the memories of the night 
before circled his mind, Jake reached for his comb 
and walked over to the large tarnished mirror.
    
Carefully combing his hair into a side parting he 
inspected it form every angle before being satisfied. 
Glancing down at the reflection of his chest he 
fingered the places where his scars should have been 
and smiled wickedly.  Scratching his chest idly he 
walked back towards the bed and rummaged through a 
small sports bag. When he found the phone he'd been 
searching for he quickly dialled a number and lounged 
lazily onto the bed to await the answer.  The small 
bed creaked and groaned under his weight but he 
ignored the noise as he found a comfortable spot. 
With one hand holding the mobile to his ear the other 
was bent back beneath his head and under the 
threadbare pillow.

"Hello?"

"She's dead."

"I told you not to call me. I'd contact you."
"Yeah? Well I don't give a fuck. What do you want me 
to do with him?" Jake's hand roamed down his flat 
stomach to his pubic hair where his fingers gently 
teased himself into an erection.

"He's not dead?" came the angered reply.

"No," Jake almost purred as his eyes closed over in 
pleasure and he held his cock his hand, stroking it 
gently.

"Jesus Christ, Palmer. Kill him. And Kill him 
quickly."

"Quickly?" Jake laughed. "But where is the fun in 
that?"

"There is a team of Agents out looking for them. I've 
done what I can on this end but they are onto you. 
They have prints and pictures from the pharmacy 
robbery."

"Well you do your job and I'll do mine."

"I'm doing all I can Palmer, but they are working 
fast. It won't be long before they find out who you 
are."

"Listen to me! You got me into this!" Jake bit back 
angrily sitting up quickly and pulling on his cock 
harder. "You called me, you asked me to kill him."

"And you haven't yet."

"Well I needed him. I needed the release. He's a fun 
toy prize." Jake felt the welling up of power in the 
pit of his stomach and he knew he wouldn't be able to 
last for much longer. The image of sweat soaked 
Mulder lying huddled in the dark cell, blood dripping 
from his mouth and the furrowed crease in his brow 
almost sent him over the edge but he resisted the 
breathtaking lure.

"You're going to get caught and you're going to bring 
me down with you."
    Jake laughed as much as his constricted lungs 
would allow. 

"Get caught?" he felt the rise push against his hand, 
throbbing mercilessly as it begged to be set free. 
"...Only if you...fuck up."
"Kill him. And get the fuck out of there." The voice 
hissed with a barely controlled anger before ending 
the call, with the loud clatter of his hand piece 
connecting with the cradle.
    
Jake held the phone up to his ear listening to the 
broken dial tone as he pulled faster and harder on 
himself letting the release take over and his muscles 
contract against the discharge.
    
He fell back onto the springy bed panting past his 
smile for a few moments as the conversation sunk in 
with the deep feeling of satiation, the air drying 
the sweat on his back until his skin tightened.   But 
all too quickly the moment had passed and he had no 
way to reclaim it. The image of Mulder's huddled 
broken body sprang into his mind like a sunburst and 
with a crooked smile Jake pushed himself off the bed.
"Kill him. I will." He muttered as he sauntered from 
the room hoping Mulder would enjoy his midnight gift.

***    

Mulder basked in what little light the small 
window offered him before he pushed himself up off 
the floor and spat the blood and grit from his mouth. 
He was so cold, both in his mind and deep down in his 
bones. So intertwined that he had no idea where this 
utter frigidity melded. His teeth chattered 
uncontrollably and he almost bit his tongue.

Through the window there was only moonlight 
shining through. It was a strange sight to him and he 
watched in surreal fascination at the way it turned 
his skin a pale colour. 

In the darkness the shadows played across the 
wall forming faces he knew and faces he didn't. All 
watching him, glaring their disapproval at him. 
Looking away, he focused on the window, watching as 
the light sharpened the corners of the window frame. 
The shadows faded and for a moment he relaxed his 
eyes to take in the rest of the room.

Then he saw her.

She stood in the corner her back to him and her 
head lowered. Her red hair covered her face and she 
made no move to turn to him. He daren't call out her 
name for fear that she would disappear, or worse. 
That she wouldn't.

His shoulder ached with raw powerful pain that 
held his arm captive against his chest. He managed to 
push himself to his knees and stumbled forward to 
balance himself off the wall as he struggled to stand 
up fully.  He rested his forehead against the 
freezing wall as he held his breath and waited for 
the shooting pains to subside.  His eyes screwed shut 
against the torrent of hot pain that almost 
overwhelmed him but managed to stagger towards her, 
his shoulder grating against the wall as he moved.

"Scully," he mumbled softly his voice only a whisper 
echoing his naked fears around the room. She didn't 
move. His heart lurched in his chest banging against 
his tender ribs and his ears filled with the silence.
    
Reaching a shaky hand out to her, he gently touched 
her shoulder and turned her towards him but as he did 
she spun on her heels and faced him fully making him 
stumble back and fall down. 
    
Clouds of dust permeated the already stale air making 
him cough as he backed away from her on his haunches.  
She walked towards him and as she stepped into the 
light he gasped in horror at her featureless face.  
Just a flat plane of colourless skin where her baby 
blue eyes and rosy red lips should have been. One 
hand came up to touch him, and her scream reached 
into him like an icy tendril piecing him through the 
heart.     

Mulder woke with a start. The sweaty remains of his 
nightmare trailing it's way down his face and back. 
Heart galloping like a thoroughbred. 

Glancing nervously around the room her shook the 
terrifying images from his head and attempted to 
stand up. With great effort he managed to heave 
himself onto his sore and bloodied feet where he 
looked around for the door. 

His ribs protruded awkwardly from his side and 
he knew the damage there would take a while to repair 
but recuperation wasn't something he wanted to think 
about. Recuperation meant facing his injuries. 
Explaining his injuries. Determining how they 
occurred.  And that wasn't something he was prepared 
to acknowledge yet let alone verbalize to another 
person. Like a warning not to think anymore, his 
stomach rebelled.

With a few shaky steps across the room he made 
it to the door and reached out for the handle, but 
the footsteps in the hallway were getting closer and 
it was too late to back away as his body offered him 
no speed or agility.  The door opened quickly but 
quietly and Jake stepped in. His eyes darted around 
the room until they found Mulder's body slumped 
heavily against the wall to his left. Mulder's head 
was bent low with his chin resting on his chest. His 
breathing was shallow, shocky. Two eyes dark with 
pain and terror gawked back at him, shiny in the dim 
light. Jake grinned from ear to ear. 

"Come on."
    
Jake held the door open further and motioned with his 
head for Mulder to follow. Without looking up Mulder 
knew what he was supposed to do but his legs refused 
to comply. His heart felt like some manic creature 
stealing all the air in his chest and bruising his 
ribs. He heard Jake's steps approach and somehow 
dragged his head up in time to see the dirty hand 
seize his forearm.

"I can't have you going out in that state," Jake 
hissed into his ear as he pulled him out of the room 
quickly, too quickly. His feet stumbled beneath him 
and he fell awkwardly in the corridor bashing his 
head against the wall on his way down. Everything 
spun and lights flashed.

"Fuck sake." Jake pulled him up onto his feet and 
dragged him further down the corridor into a smaller 
well-lit room by the rope that Mulder realised he was 
still wearing.
    
Blinking the light from his eyes Mulder strained to 
see his surroundings and as it slowly came into 
focus, he recoiled at the sight of the bath.
    
It was a stand-alone thing more like an animal trough 
that stood in the centre of the room and was filled 
with steaming hot water. The rest of the room was 
tilled with large cream tiles that had seen better 
days, mildew glistening back at him from every angle. 
On the other side against the wall was a gate leaning 
off its hinges.  Mulder recognised it as a cattle 
gate and wondered if that meant he was on a farm, 
near a farm?
    
Before he could process these thoughts he felt Jake's 
clammy hand trail its way down his back and cup his 
ass.  Mulder flinched against his touch and dry 
heaved. As he shifted towards the bath to get away 
from him.

"Get in. FBI pretty boy. I'll be back in a minute."
    
Surprisingly Jake left the room and Mulder stood 
still for a moment unable to think his way through to 
an idea of what to do. Something seemed to be 
blocking all rational thought except the urge to 
regurgitate bile. He stumbled around the room, 
feverishly checking the walls for weaknesses but it 
seemed it was another concrete shell with no windows 
and only one heavy steel door.  With a halting sigh 
that betrayed his fears Mulder approached the bath, 
dipped in his shaking hand and tested the water with 
a little splash.
    
He noticed there was no taps so the water must have 
been carried in manually and it was quite warm and 
clean.  But in no way was it inviting. Instead of 
steeping into it's warmth Mulder cupped his hands 
beneath the water and brought them up to his face. He 
rubbed his cheeks and forehead vigorously as if he 
could remove the memories along with the dirt and 
grime. Splashing it back over his head he ruffled his 
hair and rubbed his face again. Suddenly his hands 
were grabbing fistfuls of water and he was emptying 
the bath over him, his breath sucking in and out of 
his lungs like a marathon runner.  A sound at the 
door made him look up in time to see Jake looming in 
the doorway with a wire brush in his hand and a 
sinful smile staining his lips. Mulder's eyes 
blanched at the object in his hand and all air left 
his lungs. 
    
Mulder's muscles contracted with anger as Jake 
approached him and before Jake could brace himself, 
Mulder jumped up and away from the bath with a feral 
howl and charged towards him. 
    
His shoulder tore at him as he bounced off Jake's 
chest sending the small man into an ungainly heap 
against hard floor. Mulder saw his head impact off 
the tiles but didnt stop to examine it further. He 
barrelled out of the open door slamming it shut 
behind him. Tearing away from his own cell he raced 
down the corridor with a speed he didnt think his 
body possessed, sucking in gulps of air, adrenaline, 
ignoring the pain and to his careful delight he didnt 
hear anyone behind him.
    
Running past closed doors; he didn't bother to check 
if they were open but just continued to bolt. He 
feared he was running deeper into his "prison" but 
nothing could stop his legs from pumping him as far 
away from the horror as he could. He felt his left 
knee buckle as he took a sharp turn to the left and 
hit the coarse ground with his chest. It took all his 
effort not to scream out in pain and he somehow 
managed to scramble to his feet and continue running. 
No time to worry if he just punctured a lung.
    
Jake lay still against the cold tiles dazed and 
confused at his surroundings for a moment until he 
realised what had happened. He struggled to stand 
gingerly touching the back of his head only to find a 
few spots of blood on his fingers.
    
His laugh was unexpected and bubbled in his stomach 
before it managed to make it's way past his lips.  
Walking slowly over to the door he stood in the dark 
hallway and spotted the wet trail of footprints 
Mulder had left in his wake.

"You can't hide from me!" he shouted half-heartedly 
with a strange confidence. "Spirited fucker."
    
Mulder heard nothing but his pounding heart as he 
finally skidded to a halt at the end of a corridor. 
The doors had run out and gasped from exhaustion and 
pain. With the remaining door right in front of him 
he took a deep breath and hoped it would be open. 
Instinctively his hand reached behind his back for 
his gun and he almost smiled at the absurdity of the 
situation. 
    
Naked, hurt and alone his hand reached for the 
circular metal doorknob and turned it slowly, biting 
back a sob. To his utmost relief the handle turned 
fully and the door opened up on the outside world 
like a slap in the face. He checked behind him once 
more before slipping out of the door and closing it 
quietly behind him.
    
Jake made his way back to his room and pulled on a 
pair of black trousers. He tugged a jumper over his 
head and fumbled through the black bag. Finding what 
he was looking for he calmly walked out the door and 
made his way to a small hidden staircase that 
spiralled up onto an open barn floor.
    
He watched with amusement as Mulder crept through the 
door and crouched behind a bail of hay taking a 
moment to steal his breath as his eyes darted around 
the new environment.  Jake stood still in the shadows 
studying the panting man as he clasped his left arm 
to his chest and slowly made his way towards the 
door. Waiting for the perfect moment to pounce, Jake 
let him negotiate his way around the large rusted 
tractor across the barn and over to the outer door.
    
Mulder felt the cool fresh breeze of freedom 
caressing his battered skin and rejoiced in the 
swirling air currents. Taking as deep a breath as his 
injured and protesting lungs would allow he basked in 
the cleanness of it, closing his eyes with relief. 
Jake suddenly stood away from the darkness standing 
only eight feet away from him, his hands in his 
pockets and his lips pursed with a silent whistle. 
    
The handle to the barn door was a large plank that 
had been latched across it.  With a struggle Mulder 
managed to pull it loose. When the freezing air hit 
him he wasted no time he and launched himself out 
onto the soft grass that felt like silk beneath his 
tortured feet. His eyes swelled up with tears as he 
squinted against the rush of air but Mulder knew it 
was more then that. 
    
Studying the landscape he could see no lights on the 
horizon but the sight of the moon had never looked 
more beautiful and was enough to spur him on. His 
heart burst in his chest, pounding heavily against 
his ribs as he staggered towards the moon keeping it 
ahead of him until he reached an evil looking barbed 
wire fence.

"Can't get under it, can't get over it."

    Mulder spun as if shot at the sound of Jake's 
voice but with little or no light he couldn't see 
him. The rustle of the grass beneath his feet as the 
wind whispered softly across the ground disguised his 
movements. 

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mulder railed into the darkness, 
his voice breaking with the effort of keeping his 
mind focused. His heart lodged in his throat like a 
brick.

"What to do, what to do." Jake's voice came from the 
left and Mulder spun towards it but still he could 
see nothing. "I'm right here!"     Spinning again to 
his right Mulder searched the shadows but saw 
nothing.

"If you lay one more hand on me-" Mulder voice had 
lost all volume but the fury that diluted his soft 
tones was palpable. The adrenalin come down was 
making him shiver uncontrollably. 
    
Jake stepped into the moonlight, looking unearthly 
against the bright opalescent backdrop, his hands 
still resting in his pockets and his lips straight 
and thin. Mulder watched as he stepped no closer but 
drew something from his pocket and held it up in the 
palm of his hand. He tried to see what it was but the 
darkness was hiding too much from him. His flesh was 
suddenly up against a piercing wall of teeth and 
fresh blood ran down his torso as he finally 
processed what it was. 

"I don't need to."

    Jake shot the Tazer and hit Mulder square in the 
chest, pitching him away from the barbed wire that 
had previously claimed him. The Agent dropped hard to 
the ground convulsing and twitching in agony as his 
body shook with the jolt of voltage that wrapped him 
in a heart stopping embrace, Jake watched as his 
victim's eyes rolled to the back of his head and from 
his mouth he spurted blood from his bitten tongue.
    
Releasing the trigger Jake saw Mulder's body go 
still. His eyelids closed over and his mouth ajar.  
Crouching beside him he gently brushed the agents 
hair from his face and tenderly stroked his cheek, 
clicking his tongue.

"You shouldn't have run like that."
    
Heaving Mulder's limp body up onto his shoulder Jake 
walked back into the barn and carried his captive 
through the maze of corridors back to his cell. He 
gently laid him in the corner of the room and prised 
the metal hooks from the Tazer out of his chest.  He 
left for a moment and returned with a bowl of 
steaming water, a few towels and a small stool. He 
knelt next to Mulder and soaked one of the towels in 
the water and wrang it out tightly. Pressing it 
gently against the Agent's many bleeding wounds he 
carefully cleaned up the blood and dirt. Working his 
way meticulously around Mulder's body Jake cleaned up 
as much as he could, changing towels when the one he 
was using became too grimy. 

That secret dark place spirited him away, claiming 
him like a returning lover.
    
Mulder remained still, his pulse weak and his 
breathing ragged, completely unaware of his 
surroundings as Jake took the water and towels away.  
He returned and pulled the stool into a corner by the 
door and at back into the shadows waiting for Mulder 
to wake up.

***

FBI Building
20th November
6.50AM

    Dana Scully sipped from her coffee as she made 
her way through the familiar hallways of the J. Edgar 
Hoover building. As a kid she had toured these halls, 
her father at her side, his enormous hand engulfing 
her small one in safe reassurance, and as an adult 
she had navigated these halls as a confident Agent. 
Now with smaller steps and a less assured gait, 
anyone who had been watching her would see a 
remarkable difference in her demeanour.  Her head 
hung just a little lower then normal and her eyes 
glazed over; less in thought and more in shock.  
    
Still in a daze, she entered the conference room and 
was greeted by Will Andrews as he rushed over to her 
and grabbed her arm. Her coffee spilled over the edge 
of her cup reviving her enough to shake the hot 
liquid from her wrist.

"Dana, we got him. We got him."

"What?" Suddenly alert, she allowed him to lead her 
out of the room and into the corridor where he jumped 
for the closing elevator doors and pulled her in with 
him. He jammed his hand onto the 2nd floor button and 
turned to face her with a wide and gratifying smile. 
Her eyes beseeched him for an explanation.

"We have a match for the finger prints."

"Who?" Her coffee was forgotten as she took the page 
he passed her and stared down at the photo fit of the 
young dark haired man. "Jake Palmer." He looked 
so...regular.

"Lieutenant Jake Palmer. Dishonourable discharge from 
the USMC. 1991"
    
Looking down closer at the page she read the military 
wrap sheet detailing his arrest for attempted murder 
of a fellow officer. Palmer made no plea and refused 
to speak to the MP during the arrest. Reading further 
she saw that his sentencing amounted to the discharge 
but no other punishment was given. To force more 
punishment would be to shed light onto the squad, 
which was something the military obviously wasn't 
prepared to do.

"If he's military why didnt his prints come up 
before?" she demanded, her voice tinged with anger as 
they stepped out of the corridor. Dumping her coffee 
into the nearest bin she followed him into the 
bullpen and over to the projector room.

"He was in a squad called the Delta Knights; a covert 
team that was dealing with stuff the military had no 
part in." He spoke softly until he closed the door 
behind them and they were alone.

"What do you mean?"

    Andrews switched off the lights and turned on the 
projector. The screen lit up with the picture of 
twelve men all in marine fatigues and smiling widely 
at the camera. The dog-eared picture was in black and 
white and fuzzy with little or no focus on it.

"This is the squad and their Major." He walked over 
to the screen and touched the face of a young man who 
stood to the left of the middle row. 

"Jake Palmer. Aged 19 in December 1984."

"What kind of outfit was it?"

"They were in charge of missions that never actually 
occurred. No records. Reconnaissance, rescue, 
Intelligence."

"Special forces?" she looked up to the screen as the 
picture changed to one of the team as they stood in 
full uniform.
"These guys were more elite and less famous then the 
special forces, more your Black ops on a strictly 
buried and secret agenda. "

"Where did you unearth this information?" Joining him 
by the screen she looked closer at the images until 
finally Andrews moved it onto the last picture.

"This is Major Michael Carson." In the picture Jake 
stood next to the major, both of them looking at the 
cameras uncomfortably as if they didn't want to have 
their picture taken. Cold determination on their 
faces. "AKA Assistant Director Kevin Douglas."

"Oh my god," she gasped.

Stepping closer to get a better look the similarity 
was unmistakeable. She turned to Agent Andrews 
frowning, his expression matching hers.
"But," he began stepping back to turn on the lights 
and switch the projector off.
"But?" she urged him to continue as she stared down 
at the police arrest picture of Jake Palmer. He had a 
small face but bright eyes with a weird undefined 
energy that even came through on the small mug shot.

"But this doesn't prove anything. Other than the fact 
that he knew the suspect."  He sighed and shoved his 
hands stiffly in his pockets.

"Knew him and should have recognised him from the 
pictures we distributed."

"What about motive?" Agent Andrews countered.

"Motive for the murders? Kidnapping of two agents?"

"There is none. We need to keep looking. I have Agent 
Beckett running a background check on Palmer to see 
if he has any place locally that he might be holding 
them. I think it would be best if we ran the check on 
AD. Douglas."

Scully nodded. Hold on Mulder please-"Yes. Have you 
spoken to Skinner yet?" 

"No. I'm about to go there now." Agent Andrews 
shuffled his papers together and slipped them into a 
slim binder.

"I have a few phone calls to make. I'll meet you back 
here afterwards?"

"Fine."

    When Agent Andrews left the room Scully pounced 
on the phone and quickly dialled the Lone Gunmen's 
office. Langly answered almost immediately and before 
he could go into the long diatribe she cut him off.

"Langly it's me. I need you to do some research for 
me."

"Name it."

"Major Michael Carson. Lieutenant Jake Palmer. Check 
all you can on them. Carson is currently going under 
the name Kevin Douglas. Works here in the FBI."   
"An inside job?"
"I don't know, I need.."

" I'm on it." Langly said before she had to offer any 
more of an explanation. "Anything else?"

"And find out what you can about Delta Knights Marine 
Squad."

"Will do."

"Thanks. I'll call you later."

    Scully hung up the phone and made her way to the 
reference library. Her anger at the lack of co-
operation from the army, or AD. Douglas was 
threatening to overwhelm her when she thought of how 
much Mulder might be suffering at the hands of this 
special ops maniac, but she shook her head as if she 
could physically remove the thoughts.  If there was 
any information of more recent links to be found 
between Major Carson and Jake Palmer, The Lone Gunmen 
would weasel them out, she deliberated as she settled 
into a desk with a pc and began some research of her 
own.

Part 6b

Darkness...

    Fox Mulder woke slowly. Keeping his eyes closed 
he waited for his body to catch up before he tried 
to move.  He took a slow deep breath that was 
suddenly met with terrible torrent of nausea and 
thick congestion in his lungs. He coughed against 
the urge to vomit but it was too much for him. 
Grabbing his stomach as it spasmed violently with 
each heave, he all but doubled over in pain. 
    
A hand on his shoulder helped him roll over onto 
his side where his stomach took control, forcing 
the blood and bile from his belly, up his throat 
and out of his mouth with a wave of power he wasn't 
prepared for. His mouth was invaded with the foul 
leftovers of puke taste that lingered too long 
after initial exodus and he was breathless after 
the effort of disgorgement. What was passing for 
his ribs these days were molten fire.

Rolling onto his back and wiping his mouth with the 
back of his hand, he took slow breaths, trying to 
ignore the cramping in his stomach.

"Feeling better?" The voice was soft and tender and 
for a few moments he didnt recognise it as Jake's.  
Mulder tried to lift his head but there didnt seem 
to be any strength left in his neck. He felt like 
every molecule of his body was itching, shaking, 
spiralling into oblivion along with his mind. He 
let his head lull to the side and rest on his 
shoulder, only to see Jake sitting on a small stool 
next to his head. "Here, these will help."
    
Jake held a small handful of ice chips out and 
pressed them to Mulder's trembling lips. The cold 
sensation was heaven to his dry swollen and cracked 
lips and he basked in their small comfort without 
regard to their source. Opening his mouth and 
sucking them in was bliss until the shock of 
feeling Jake's fingers hit his tongue. Peering up 
to his captor he saw the fond smile on Jake's lips 
and he turned away, spitting the ice out as if it 
was poison as he did.

"What...happened?" Mulder asked weakly, his chest 
humming with a strange pain he hadn't felt before 
and his ears ringing as if he'd spent the night in 
a rowdy club.

"It's time Agent Mulder."
    
Somehow Jake's words rattled him and he tried to 
sit up, but his body was too weak. Lying flat on 
the filthy ground he was surprised to feel his 
chest was cleaner, the grime that had been building 
up on his body since he got here was gone. The hair 
that had been bristling on his chin shaven off, and 
his shoulder anointed with a stiff smelling muscle 
relaxant he recognised from the various injuries 
he'd had before.

"Time for... what?" he murmured, rolling his head 
back to face Jake. He barely had the energy to 
care.

" As much fun as this has been.  It's time for all 
this to end."
    
Jake reached behind him and pulled a small bag out 
to rest between his knees. From the bag he 
retrieved a metal box that looked like a glasses 
case. Before opening the box he put on a pair of 
latex gloves that sent shivers up Mulder's spine. 
With the gloves fitted comfortably he opened the 
box, turning it so Mulder could see the contents.

"Take it." Mulder looked in and saw a straight 
razor sitting closed in the case. His heart thudded 
loudly and the room seemed to shrink back to 
nothing but the glint on the cold steel.  

"What for?" The last time he'd seen a razor like 
it, Jake had been slicing it across his chest while 
fondling him in places he'd desperately tried to 
block from his mind. 

No ...don't go there, don't...

"Take it." Still in a tender voice, Jake spoke 
softly as he lowered himself onto the floor and sat 
next to Mulder's head. "You need to do this."
    
Mulder's tears fell silently from his tired eyes 
and no matter how much he wanted to take the blade 
there was a tiny part of him urging to resist. An 
urge to survive. But even as a million thoughts and 
images, each one more horrifying than the last swam 
through his scattered mind, his heavy arm lifted 
slowly off the ground before he could register and 
reached up to take the knife.  Hesitating for only 
a moment he clutched at the shiny blade with a 
clumsy grip and brought it to rest by his side.

"This is something you'll have to do alone. I can't 
help you."
    
Hypnotised by the gentle cadence of his voice, 
Mulder turned his head towards Jake and let his 
body follow. The small vestige of psychologist 
still in him shouted 'Stockholm syndrome' and he 
was sure he was a classic case, like the ones he'd 
studied at Oxford, but the need to be held, the 
need to be told that what he was doing was right 
sank deeper and deeper inside of that disturbed 
maelstrom in his mind, until he could no longer 
tell if it was his feeling to begin with. 

Lying in that foetal position he'd grown 
accustomed to for the past horrific weeks, he faced 
Jake with burning tears as he slowly opened the 
blade and held it firmly against his wrist, 
swallowing fiercely. Something close to excitement 
blazed in Jake's eyes as he took in the pathetic 
sight in front of him, his captives throbbing pulse 
against the bite of the blade.

An ending at last and not one surrounded by a 
barbed wire fence but a final ending that would 
bring complete relief without the burden of 
healing. Regeneration that he didn't think he could 
survive if he had to face it fully.

***

FBI Building
21st November
5.45 PM

"What do you have?" Skinner asked without ceremony 
as he stalked into the conference room with ease, 
sitting heavily in the top chair between Agent 
Scully and Agent Andrews.
    
Paul Andrews glanced at Scully's exhausted face and 
nodded to let her go first. She smiled and turned 
to Skinner as she slid a folder across the table to 
him.

"Jake Palmer has spent alot of time in a lot of 
psychiatric units." She pointed out the list on the 
second page of the file. "He was discharged from 
Belleview in New York State on the 5th of December 
1994."

"Two weeks before the assaults started to happen in 
New York." Skinner noted.

"His doctors reported a strange ability for 
abnormally rapid healing when injured, although the 
injuries were all superficial and self inflicted."

"According to the institute," Andrews added.

"His blood was found at several locations around 
the institute, but never where he would have been 
and usually after another patient had been hurt or 
wounded."

"Other people were bleeding his blood?" Skinner 
slapped the file closed and looked between them 
both. "Okay, so if they were...where has it gotton 
us?"

"We have done extensive searching for some sort of 
ties that Jake might have to the DC area but we 
found nothing.  He never visited an institute here, 
he doesn't own any land as far as we're concerned, 
or rents anything here.  He's a transient in this 
state."  

"So you called me up here for what exactly?"

"Major Michael Carson.  Retired in 1989 shortly 
after the USMC squad code named 'Delta Knights' 
disbanded." Scully passed him a separate folder.

"Forced retirement?" Skinner asked flipping through 
the photos and pulling one up closer to his face to 
see the unmistakeable picture of AD. Douglas 
staring back.

"On the contrary. He left highly decorated with a 
service medal for conduct, valour, bravery and even 
the Purple heart from President Reagan."

"So what happened?"

"He died in a terrible car crash."  

"Two weeks later AD. Douglas was assigned a 
position in the LA field Office of the bureau. A 
year after that he was assigned to New York and 
then finally three years ago, here in DC." Andrews 
finished for her.

"So you have his track record on file. What about 
his connections to this Jake Palmer?" Skinner 
tapped the file in the middle of the table and 
looked between them both. He was getting a very bad 
feeling where all this was leading. 

"He was his commanding officer from 1983 to 91 when 
Palmer was discharged."

"So you have basically nothing?"  Scully looked him 
impassively in the eyes.

"Twenty three days ago a reasonably large sum of 
money left the private account of AD. Douglas. He 
didnt buy a car, no land deeds were purchased and 
his credit card bills still remain unpaid. We have 
yet to see a recipient of this sum of money. We are 
trying to pick up a digital trail for it but so far 
that trail keeps getting cold. Its been well 
orchestrated, wherever this money transfer has 
ended up."

"You think Palmer was blackmailing him?" Skinner 
asked incredulously. Someone this high up in the 
bureau organising this type of crime against their 
own was a frightening thought.... and all too 
possible if certain other shady men were to be 
considered. Mulder's often used words came back to 
haunt him. 'Trust no one'...

"Possibly. Or he was paying Palmer."

"To kidnap agent Blake? Agent Mulder?" 

    Scully looked away for a second, but it was 
long enough for him to know she was still holding 
out hope for her partner to return alive. He hoped 
to god something could still be done to get them 
both back alive...but he was realist. This had gone 
on too long and with this new damning accusation of 
AD. Douglas possible involvement he couldn't see 
anything but everything ending badly.

"Well sir the motive is unclear. We can only assume 
that it's Palmer doing the blackmailing. One thing 
is clear though and that's that these two men have 
been communicating, keeping in touch and sending 
case updates." Andrews shuffled though the pages 
until he came to the phone bill records. "As you 
can see we have marked off all the Bureau related 
calls made from AD. Douglas' office and those made 
from his home line."

"How did you get this information?" Skinner asked 
even as his eyes were skimming down the list of 
highlighted numbers.

"Sir the point is, he was talking to Agent Blake's 
phone," Andrews confirmed before AD Skinner could 
continue. "After she went missing."
    
Skinner's face paled before them as he examined the 
dates and times of the phone calls.

"We need to speak to him."

"I'll talk to him." Skinner stood up from the table 
and took the files with him. Both Scully and 
Andrews watched worriedly as he walked briskly out 
of the room and the door shut solidly behind him.

"What now?" Agent Andrews asked as Scully gathered 
the rest of the pages.

"He's going to make a deal."

"Just like that?"

"Do you see he has any other choice?" She ambled 
sadly over to the coffee machine and poured a cup 
of the thick black liquid. Her appetite was nil and 
she wondered idly how long she could keep going on 
a diet of coffee and little else. "Skinner will 
threaten him with arrest but I'm sure it won't go 
that far. Not yet anyway. Skinner might be able to 
secure details of where this Jake has them holed 
up. We can deal with him later. Right now the 
important thing is to find Mulder and Blake before 
they run out of time. "  She didn't want to voice 
the niggling spike of fear that they had already.
    
Paul Andrews watched her under hooded eyes as she 
slowly walked towards the window and stared out at 
the city that seethed below them.  Her suit was 
impeccable as it had ever been and her hair 
perfect. He'd only been working with her for a 
couple of weeks but even he could tell the 
difference between someone who was surviving and 
someone who was dying. She'd lost some weight. Ten 
to one she wasn't eating anything worth a damn. 
They had to get a resolution soon. She'd never 
last. Mulder was a lot more than just a 
partner...that much was evident in the slump of her 
tiny frame against the window 

***

Office of AD Douglas
21st November 
6.03PM

    Walter Skinner hesitated for a moment outside 
the inner door to Douglas' office. He had smiled at 
his secretary as she walked out, assuring him AD. 
Douglas was finishing off a couple of notes before 
leaving for the day so he knew he was alone.  A 
steady rap on the door preceded Douglas's bid to 
enter and Skinner was surprised to find him sitting 
on the visitors couch, his tie loosened and his 
cuffs rolled up to his elbows. Skinner resisted the 
urge to curl his fists. His face remained stone.

"Mr Skinner, what can I do for you?"

"Kevin." Skinner walked over to him and it was then 
he was met by the faint smell of alcohol. Spying 
the half empty bottle of gin on the floor by 
Douglas's feet he stopped in his tracks half way 
across the room. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm off the clock. So are you. Join me."

"No thanks."

"Well in that case what can I do for you Mr 
Skinner?" Douglas reached for the bottle and poured 
more into his empty glass.

"I want to ask you about Jake Palmer." The words 
shook Douglas to the core causing him to spill more 
gin over his hand then he managed to get into the 
glass.

"Never heard of him."

"Kevin..."

"I never heard of him!" he reiterated more 
forcefully, swallowing back the drink in one large 
gulp.

"Don't give me your BS. Tell me what you know." 
Douglas looked at the open disgust on his 
colleague's face and blanched, the alcohol robbing 
him of his usual stoicism.

"I can't. It's classified."

"Classified?" Skinners anger bore a new level. 
"Kevin I have phone records of you talking with him 
on a regular basis. He has two of my agents doing 
god know what to them. Where is he? Where is he 
holding them?"

    Kevin Douglas' face aged before his very eyes 
and Skinner watched as his shoulders crumpled and 
his spine curved. His back shook with the effort of 
sobbing and the joy of relief. 

"You can't know what it's like..." His voice was 
cracked and broken with emotion and when he looked 
up to Skinner's face his eyes were red rimmed and 
bloodshot, weary of the battle he'd been fighting 
for so long.

"Was he blackmailing you?"

"Blackmail? No."

"You paid him?"

"Yes. I owed him I owed him so much. He was so 
young."

"Kevin you better tell me where they are." 
Skinner's eyes narrowed dangerously and Douglas 
nodded sadly in defeat.

"It was 1983. They gave me a squad. I had free 
reign."

"Where is he holding them?" Skinner asked more 
forcefully anger spilling out as he ground his 
words out. "We may not have much time. Spill it."

As if he hadn't heard him Douglas continued to 
speak, finally the wall had been lifted and he 
could speak freely, nothing could stop him. Skinner 
stepped forward, his eyes level with Douglas. Cold 
determination and fear; fear for his missing agents 
blowing up in his gaze.

"Three of them died from the initial tests. The 
next two died a year later from blood poisoning."

"Kevin!" Skinner shouted picking him up by the 
shoulders and slamming him into the wall behind 
them. "My agents..."

"They were so young!" he sobbed oblivious to the 
larger man who held him up.  He seemed to be lost 
in memories and Skinner didnt think there was 
anything he could say or do that would bring him 
back.
    
Tossing him back onto the couch in disgust, Skinner 
grabbed the phone and dialled the conference room 
phone extension. He spoke briefly with Agent 
Andrews before hanging up and getting a hold on 
Douglas again who continued to sob and mumble to 
himself. There was nothing he could do. No effort 
he could muster up to clean him or hide the bottle 
of gin. Most of him didn't even want to. Mulder 
could be dead because of his inaction.  Instead 
Skinner leaned against the desk sighing in abject 
frustration and awaited the knock at the door.  
Thankfully he didn't have to wait for long. The 
knock was cursory and they didn't wait for an 
answer before walking in. Two agents took a weeping 
Douglas away as others started to scour the room 
for clues.

"Everything. I want everything checked. Pull this 
fucking office apart. Leave nothing unturned, and I 
mean nothing. "  They were so damn close. He tamped 
down his anger as best he could and it almost 
choked him. They had to find the location fast.

***

Home of Kevin Douglas
23rd November
10.03AM

"Call him."

"He'll know."

"Call him."

"They are already dead."

"Kevin if you don't pick up that phone and call him 
right now you're facing the chair. Call the fucking 
number or so help me..."
    
Kevin Douglas looked around the room at the sea of 
expectant faces before him. In the corner Agent 
Scully and Agent Andrews stood close together 
casting undisguised daggers of fury in his 
direction. Two Agents he didnt recognise monitored 
the tracking device they had placed on his phone. 
And before him, leaning on the arms of his chair 
with his nose mere inches from his own was AD. 
Skinner, radiating brimstone.

"Okay, okay..."
    
He gingerly picked up the phone and under watchful 
eyes, dialled the number. It rang three, four then 
five times before Palmer answered. He was 
breathless on the other end and panting. Kevin's 
eyes darted over to Scully who was watching him 
with unbridled fury. Skinner made several hand 
gestures to the tracing team who were standing by. 
Tension was a thick soup in the room you could cut 
with knife.

"Palmer."

"Ahhh my favourite Major..."

"Who were you expecting? The Pope?"

    Jake laughed heartily on the other end. "What 
do you want...I'm kinda in the middle of 
something?"

"I have the money ready."

"Great."

"Where will we do this?"

"How about here?"

"Where?"

"Oh come on Major. You know where."

"Jake tell me where you are. I have the money ready 
and I want to get this over with."

"I'll meet you in the city. Nothing like the 
Arlington War monument to bring back happy memories 
eh major?" he laughed nastily. 

"Ok. Tomorrow. 10 o clock."

"Yes, yes that's fine."

"Palmer...is he dead yet?"   Scully gasped quietly 
in the corner of the room.

"Dead?" Jake laughed again. "He wishes he was. 
Nearly Major. He's nearly dead. This time tomorrow 
he will be."  Palmer laughed on the other end of 
the line and Douglas held it away from his ear. 
"Don't you want to know what I did with her body?" 
Palmer continued. "You seemed so interested in how 
I killed her."

    The line went dead. Scully felt the comforting 
arm of Agent Andrews on her back as the room 
wavered before her, but it offered no comfort, only 
burned. Excusing herself as quickly as she could, 
she walked out of the room and burst into the open 
area of the back yard.  She needed the fresh wind 
in her face, her lungs. The fresh air stung her 
lungs and stilled the tears in her eyes. God, he 
was still alive. Hold on Mulder please. Behind her 
she heard the door close and she quickly dried the 
remnants of lingering tears. Expecting Agent 
Andrews to be behind her she was surprised to see 
Skinner approaching her; his face a wellspring of 
quiet sympathy.
 
"It's nearly over." He said softly. He placed a 
tentative hand on her shoulder wishing he could 
extol his strength into her. She looked so on the 
verge it scared him. 

"I know." She murmured turning away when the tears 
threatened to fall again. "That's what I'm afraid 
of. Afraid of what we will find."

***

Darkness...

    Jake Palmer lay still on his bed enjoying the 
sound of Mulder's howls as he remembered them. The 
shrill shriek of pain as the blade cut his skin and 
he dragged it towards his elbow in a four-inch 
slice that opened his arm and bled heavily like a 
fine thick wine. He licked his lips savouring again 
the sweet taste. 

His eyes gleamed in the memory and it was all he 
could do to go back and look at him again, the 
blood pooling beneath his arm and the whites of his 
eyes rolling to the forefront.  The silence was 
reassuring to him now and he loved the way his 
breathing echoed around the room but it also meant 
him feel safe. He knew his surroundings, he knew 
their sounds, shapes and shadows. That was how he 
saw him. 

"Are you going to hide over there all night Major?" 
Without looking up he spoke into the darkness his 
fingers interlocking casually behind his head as he 
did.

"Too late Jake. It's too late." AD. Douglas stepped 
into the room and approached the bed. A small shaft 
of moonlight shone over the curtain and he stood 
just on the edge of it. Jake grinned at his obvious 
agitation.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
    
Without answering Douglas pulled his gun up and aim 
it at Jake's head but it didn't wipe the smile from 
his face. Lowering his aim he pulled the trigger 
and shot Jake in the shoulder. The bullet hot and 
fast seared through his skin, bone and muscle, 
sending sharp scorching pain across his chest.

"You'll never fix it. You'll always owe me."
    
Douglas aimed for the other shoulder and shot 
again; hitting his target he stepped closer to the 
bed and loomed over Palmer's squirming body.
"It feels too good to make you stop."

"Fuck you...it was you who made me like this." His 
voice was so calm that his anger was disguised. 
"You made me what I am and you gave me her name, 
you gave me the pass for the garage."

"You were supposed to kill her."

"I did." Jake smiled wickedly. "After I had some 
fun with her. Next time you tell someone classified 
secrets in bed try to make it a blonde. I prefer 
blondes."

"There's not going to be a next time." Douglas 
shifted his weight onto his other foot and 
tightened his grip on the gun.

"No more fun for you major?"
    
In silence Douglas held the gun up and looking down 
the length of cold steel he could see Jake's 
quivering painful eyes. He refused to blink, he 
wanted to remember the look, the look he'd 
inflicted on this man and the look he was sure this 
man inflicted on others. It had to stay with him or 
else there would be no redemption.

"It's over Jake. It has to end, I only wish I did 
it years ago."

    Jake barked out a loud harsh laugh that stung 
him to the core but teh suprised look on Douglas' 
face made it all worth while.
"Then what? Then who would have killed Mulder?"

"Is he dead?"

"Man he was so much fun. I fucked him so bad and it 
was better then ever before. He hurt so much that 
it made my job easy!"

"What did you do? Where is he?" Douglas shouted 
spittle from his angry voice splashing onto his 
hand and clinging to his chin.

"Where is he? You want to take him back to DC, give 
him a proper burial?" Jake laughed his adrenaline 
pushing the pain into the back recess of his mind 
ad he looked up to the major. "He wept for his dead 
partner. He cradled her naked body to protect her, 
he took beating after beating to stop me from 
hurting her..." Jakes laugh turned maniacal. "But 
he didnt know it wasn't even her!"

"You sick fuck!"

His finger squeezed the easy trigger and the 
kickback moved his arm out of the way in time to 
see the full impact of the bullet of Jake's face as 
it flew in a million directions at once. He swiped 
at the brain matter that had landed on his lips 
with the back of his hand and shook it off with 
revulsion.   

Feeling stronger then he had done in a long time, 
Douglas tossed the gun onto the bed beside Jake's 
dead carcass and walked back into the darkness.
    
He reached the first door and pulled the latch lock 
from it before opening it and stepping in. Mulder's 
abused body laid in the centre of the room, his 
skin wet with blood and glistening in the 
moonlight. Deep shuddering breaths punctuated by 
racked sobs and hiccups cut through the foul air. 
Staring at the man who was once the FBI's finest 
profiler for a long moment, Douglas stored the 
gruesome image of what he'd now been reduced to as 
he backed away. Holding it before his eyes he 
walked out of the underground shelter and across 
the gravel footpath onto the road where he'd parked 
the car. The staining image never left his sight as 
he pulled up outside his own house and let himself 
in.
    
Climbing the stairs slowly, taking each step with a 
deep breath and a heavy heart Douglas made his way 
into the bathroom where he watched his reflection 
in the mirror. Tearstained images of Agent Scully's 
face appeared behind him as he remembered the state 
of Mulder's frail bleeding body festering and 
broken in the dirty cell.
    
He climbed up on a chair. Even as his fingers 
fumbled with the noose he was making from the wire 
that he'd pulled from the shower curtain rain, he 
saw the picture of Jake's eyes.  Mulder's 
glistening body and Jake's fearful eyes fought for 
supremacy in his mind as he looped the noose over 
his head and tightened it around his neck. The cord 
cut tightly into his skin cutting off his air 
supply even now before he applied the pressure. 
    
It was Mulder's image that won as he stepped into 
the slippery bathtub and sat heavily onto the 
enamel surface where his feet had no grip to 
support him and his neck took the brunt of his 
weight.  He coughed and spluttered as he tried 
desperately to take in air but even as he tried he 
didnt want to succeed.  
    
His face turned red as the blood in his head built 
up more and more pressure bursting capillaries and 
spilling into his eyes before finally an exploding 
sharp pain plunged him into the final darkness.

***

Office of AD Skinner
24th November 
8.03AM

    Skinner paced the small confines of his office, 
as Scully looked on from her seat by his desk. He 
was tense and weary and it was only eight am.  She 
watched as he pulled his glasses on and off and ran 
his hands over his smooth head. His hands danced 
from his hips to his pockets never sitting still as 
he burned off the nervous energy any way he could.

"Sir?"

"He should be here."

"Agent Douglas has taken a team out to his house 
and they should be on their way back by now."

"There is something wrong."

"Sir, there has been alot of things wrong with this 
case."
    
Skinner turned sharply at her words to see her 
sorrowful expression but before he could offer any 
words of comfort the phone on his desk rang with a 
shrillness that shocked both of them. 

"Skinner."

"AD. Skinner. It's Agent Andrews."

"What's happened?"

"We have a situation down here."

"What is it?" he asked eager to see what had 
happened all the while keeping his back to Scully.

"AD. Douglas is dead."  He closed his eyes on a 
curse. At least they still had hope for Poor 
Mulder.

"Murder?"

"No sir. It looks like suicide."

"Okay. I'll get a team out there. I want you to go 
to the memorial. You all have pictures of Palmer. I 
want him picked up and this over by lunch time."
"Yes sir."
    
Skinner replaced the phone and turned back to 
Scully who sat on the edge of her seat awaiting his 
words.

"Kevin Douglas is dead. Agent Andrews says it looks 
like suicide."

"What about the meeting?"

"They are going over there right now."

"I'm going to meet them." She stood up to leave the 
room but skinner grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No Dana no. You have to stop putting yourself up 
for disappointment like that."

"I can't stop. I'll never stop." She shook her hand 
free and stormed out of the room.

***

Light...

    The light was so bright it hurt his exhausted 
eyes even as they were closed. His body was 
terribly weak and starved for rest but there was 
nothing he had to offer it so he waited for it to 
give up.  The light dimmed along with the pain as 
he tried to focus and gather the strength to open 
his eyes one last time. 
    
Blinking hurt, but he managed to ignore the 
swimming nausea and open his eyes for a moment. The 
walls spun before him and moved about rhythmlessly 
as he lurched over onto his side. With his arm 
stretched out before him he focused on it to make 
the room stop swaying and soon enough the walls 
settled and he could keep his eyes open.
    
Glancing down at his badly cut sliced arm, he 
ignored the grotesque marks and dried blood to pull 
the arm behind him and push himself off the floor.  
The room was empty and the door was ajar but Mulder 
wasn't sure if he could make it across the room let 
alone out of the building. But now was a perfect 
time to try he decided, some small sane part of him 
still hoping for redemption..

Managing to get onto his knees, Mulder grabbed one 
of the soiled towels from the floor and wrapped it 
around his arm to stem the bleeding from his gaping 
wounds.  He crawled over to the door and peered 
around the corner, pausing for a moment to let his 
eyes focus. There was nothing. No sounds coming 
from either end so using the doorjamb as leverage, 
Mulder managed to stand up on shaky legs.
    
He stumbled along the wall to the next corridor 
corner and waited for a hand to grab his shoulder, 
a knife to slice his back or lips to touch his 
cheek. Heart pounding in anticipation of anything.
    
Staggering further away from his cell and back the 
way as best he could remember, Mulder managed to 
meander his way through the corridors to get to the 
final door. Taking a deep breath he turned to 
handle and opened it slowly. The sunlight burned 
him and made him step back into the shadows, almost 
afraid to put one foot in front of the other. Hope 
had all but dimmed in his soul. But as he became 
accustomed to it he began to welcome its warmth. It 
offered him a new strength that pumped his legs and 
heart, giving him the power to run. To run faster 
and harder then he had ever run before.
    
The pain was all but unbearable; stinging his body, 
infecting his blood and clawing at every muscle and 
sinew he had but it didn't matter. The pain made 
him feel alive and when he was hurtling forward in 
a blind panic, when his body wasn't hurting, his 
mind was, his heart ached and his soul cried for 
release. So he kept running. Screaming inside, 
blindly flailing about as he got further away. 
Climbing the barbed wire fence and ignoring the 
slices of sharp metal cutting into his skin on his 
legs, the adrenalin in his arms and chest was a 
wonderful feeling. Knowing the pain was a means to 
escape and not the games he'd been forced to endure 
brought a whole new level of blind control to him. 
He raced through the fields not knowing where he 
was going, not caring where he'd end up knowing 
only that it could only improve. Green grass 
turning ochre as he dripped a trail of blood in his 
terrified flight to freedom. Unaware, he kept 
breathing, a searing pain in his lungs stealing his 
air, but on and on he ran. Stumbling, panting, like 
an animal fleeing from the jaws of death.

He'd never get back, his mind sneered at him, 
never get back to the level he was at before, never 
retrieve the comfortable level of living he was 
used to before and knew there would be only battles 
for the rest of his life, but he had to fight he 
knew.

Her face swam before his eyes, smiling, waving 
waiting but he pushed it back. He ran. He ran away 
but he didnt know how far he would run. He didnt 
know if he could run that far. Her blue eyes 
followed in his heart as much as he tried to shut 
them out. 'Nonononmono' echoed in his head as he 
surged forward. He was out of control, pushing 
forward through the woods, over thickets and 
stumbling over rocks bringing fresh blood to 
already tortured wounds. Silent screams lodged in 
his throat as he struggled across the punishing 
terrain.  On and On....

***

Arlington Memorial
24th November
10.50AM

    Dana Scully scanned the crowd with a trained 
eye. Spotting the casual tourists immediately, it 
was as if she could block them from her sight and 
focus on the single men who wandered around the 
monument.
She waited for him to appear. Waited for the face 
of evil, who took away her hope? Waited for him to 
stroll up the gravelly path but so far nothing. 
Glancing across at a bench when Agent Andrews sat 
mock reading a newspaper she gave him the slightest 
of nods. What does the face of one so evil look 
like? She'd thought she'd seen it before in a dozen 
or more but the distress she felt somehow shouted 
it was worse than she could possibly imagine. She 
was terrified for Mulder and for herself. What had 
this evil done to his soul and could they get him 
back in some semblance of humanity. What if Jake 
had destroyed that as her nightmares had played out 
to her like an omen.     

    He stood up and walked closer to the wall 
gaining a better vantage point as she walked away 
from the wall and circled the small park.  If 
Mulder was with her he would be making comments on 
the people passing by. He reads the NY Times every 
Monday, he'd say. She played softball on Sunday 
morning with an all ladies team; he works at an 
insurance sales office.

Smiling at the odd memory she glanced up to 
see Agent Andrews approaching her the paper folded 
and held tightly under his arm.  He looked around 
and sat onto the bench next to her as he unfolded 
his paper and held it up to read again.

"He's not going to show," he murmured without 
looking at her.

"No. I'm going to go to the morgue and do the 
autopsy on AD Douglas."

"You don't think it was suicide?"

"Maybe it was, doesn't mean there wont be clues."

    She sat with him for a few moments longer then 
stood up and returned to the blue sedan that was 
parked near the entrance. Taking a moment to steady 
her shaky breath she turned the key in the ignition 
and indicated out of her spot. Pulling into the 
traffic she rolled the window down and let the wind 
bat her face with a gently breeze in the hope that 
it would stop her unshed tears from falling. Oh 
Mulder...

She couldn't cry anymore. The pain was unbearable. 
Having to force herself up every morning, having to 
face it again and again every day then crawling 
back into her bed again at night without his 
smiling face and flirty humor. She missed him so 
much it was a physical ache.  She wanted to close 
her eyes to the horrors her mind was producing and 
ignore the pain until it had numbed enough for her 
to survive. But it wasn't numbing it was getting 
stronger and stronger as her ache for him 
increased. 

***

Darkness...

    It had been so dark for so long he was 
beginning to get used to it. He rested during the 
day, finding a cool dark spot where his body could 
hide from the harsh light but at night he covered 
ground like a nocturnal scavenger. Stumbling across 
a stream one night he sat and drank for hours until 
he felt sharp pains in his stomach that forced him 
to stop and loose a days travel. He had no idea 
where he was going and part of him was expecting to 
see "Welcome to Philadelphia" signs. A bubble of 
laughter rose in his throat as he picked his way 
through each painful mile.
    
But tonight he saw it. The long soft-focused 
familiar sight of the DC horizon. The Washington 
monument was unmistakable and brought weary tears 
to his eyes. Oblivious to his nakedness, Mulder was 
spurred on by the sight of civilisation and he 
rushed towards it but his body was reaching a limit 
he knew he couldn't pass. Not wanting to stop for 
fear of never getting started again he forced his 
aching limbs to continue. Just a little further. 
Keep breathing...just keep going.
    
The feel of the road beneath his bloody feet was 
somewhat comforting although he preferred the cool 
sensation of the grass between his toes but it was 
encouraging to know he was making progress. He was 
running on empty now and he heeded to rest before 
his body caved in under the weight of abuse it has 
suffered. 

He spied the phone box immediately and rushed over 
to it but as he stepped inside he hesitated.

Could he really go back? Could he face them? Could 
he face her?
    
His legs bucked beneath him and he fell to the 
ground. His breathing became shallow as his body 
finally decided enough was enough and refused to do 
any more. He saw the shadow approaching him and he 
huddled into a ball to protect his body.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" the voice came through like 
a shot in the dark.
    
Mulder looked up but instead of the elderly 
Hispanic man that stood before him Mulder saw Jake. 
Heard Jake and watched his mouth curl into the 
sickly sneer that made his heart gallop. His 
running had been useless. His escape had been a 
dream. His mind was rotten with foul images that 
had stained his life never to be removed.

He opened his mouth and the stranger waited to hear 
his name and instead he was met with a barrage of 
noise as Mulder screamed an unnatural howl that 
stole the rest of his energy before he fell limp 
and lifeless curled up in the corner of the booth, 
a puddle of blood and piss pooling around him.
    
The stranger picked up the phone and dialled 911 
for emergency.
"Ambulance...there is a guy here...I think he's 
dead."
"Where are you sir?" the operator asked.

"25th and 9th avenue."

"Who is he?" 

"I don't know I was just walking by. Some beat up 
naked dude. He screamed up a storm like the devil 
himself was after him. Then he passed out. I ..I 
don't think I feel a pulse."

"Can I have your name sir?"

"I had nothing to do with this. Look lady he's hurt 
you better get here fast." The line went dead and 
she directed the ambulance to the street.
    
Mulder was still unconscious when they tied him to 
the gurney and had yet to regain any level of 
consciousness by the time he had been through 
triage, x-ray and prepped for surgery. He was in a 
sorry state and they feared that he might not 
survive. He was barely hanging on and had lost a 
lot of blood, was undernourished and grossly 
dehydrated.
triage, x-ray and prepped for surgery.

Georgetown Memorial Hospital
7th December 
3.10 AM

The double doors didn't stand a chance as Dana 
Scully hit them at full speed, not bothering to 
slow down her charge into the hospital emergency 
department.  They smashed against the walls 
scraping the magnolia paint and disturbing the 
quiet tension in the waiting room.

"Where is he?" she demanded loudly approaching the 
desk and twirling round in search of someone who 
might help her. Eyes flashing blue venom from 
anyone who would keep her from her partner. She 
slammed her hand down on the counter and glared at 
the attending nurse on duty.  "I'm looking for Fox 
Mulder, he was admitted here about 2 hours ago? 
Where can I find him?" she bellowed without giving 
the nurse a chance to answer her.

"Agent Scully!"  Skinner came rushing over to her, 
his arms outstretched as he grasped her shoulders 
and turned her away from the dazed nurse.  "He's in 
emergency surgery at the moment." Her eyes locked 
on his, wide with fear and she nodded. A single 
tear escaping despite herself.

He guided her past all the waiting patients and 
through 2 sets of doors before placing her into one 
of the hallway plastic seats.  Bending down next to 
her he held her hands that lay restlessly on her 
lap.  

"What happened?" her voice was low, her fear and 
anger battling for supremacy.  "Who found him?"

"I know as much...or as little as you do.  I got 
here about 15 minutes 
ago...he was already in surgery."

"What about his admittance file? Where is it? I 
need ...I need to see it" Her voice took on a new 
tone of fresh anger as her mind reeled out the 
possibilities.

"I've already asked for it and a nurse from the ER 
is bringing it down."
    As if on cue a small elderly nurse approached 
them, the rubber soles of her shoes announcing her 
arrival on the otherwise silent corridor.

"Mr. Skinner?" Scully took a steadying breath and 
kept her eyes on the folder like it might attack 
her, the duality of needing and dreading to see 
what was inside almost buckling her at the knees.

"Yes, thank you."  He took the file she offered and 
his lips tightened as he passed it into Scully's 
shaking palms.  She flicked it open immediately her 
eyes and finger scanning the page, soaking up the 
list of meds he'd been given as if it could warm 
her of what injuries she could expect, before 
reading the treatments from the hospitals Triage, 
to the surgeon's notes before surgery.  Her eyes 
read through the bad scribbled notes and Skinner 
watched as she paled visibly before him.  She took 
a deep shaky breath almost gagging on the all too 
familiar taste of the hospital cleanliness as she 
lowered her face into her hands.  

"Scully? What is it?"  Her breath was a gasping 
noise that scared him s he waited for her to speak.

"His left arm is broken in two different places, at 
the elbow and at the wrist...probably from being 
suspended by handcuffs for an extended length of 
time."  Sitting up she glanced back at the medical 
file then up to Skinners concerned but expectant 
expression.  She took a sharp in take of breath. 
"They'll need to be re-broken and re-set correctly.  
Various head injuries to the frontal left 
lobe...some swelling but thankfully no clots. Many 
badly broken ribs. One or two threatening a 
pheumothorax.... That...that means they might have 
damaged his lungs."

"There is something else isn't there..." His words 
hung in the air between them but Scully refrained 
from answering right away, not wanting to say it 
out loud, not wanting to make it any more real. 
Skinner watched her eyes close upon the glistening 
tears held at bay there.

" Massive lower colon injuries due to.... due...to 
..to severe sexual trauma."  Fresh tears fell 
silently as the file fluttered to the floor, the 
pages forgotten but their words still stinging 
sharply.
    
Skinner sat next to her and placed a tentative arm 
around her shoulders.  Without hesitation she 
turned into his broad chest and cried effortlessly, 
wetting his shirt in short sharp heart rending 
sobs.  

For a moment the silence was permeated only by she 
gentle crying, her tears falling, for what she 
didn't know, her sobs racking her chest for what 
she did.  She sat up abruptly running her hand over 
her cheeks to remove the traces of her tears as 
best she could.

"He's safe now," Skinner said soothingly. "And the 
staff here will give him excellent medical help. We 
will all help him. No matter what he needs...how 
much time it takes."

"How did he get here?"  She watched as he reached 
down to pick up the file and he flicked through the 
file until he came to the admittance page.

"An anonymous call from a phone booth on Jameson 
Street.  Ambulance picked him up there unconscious.  
They were given his name and exact location. He'd 
obviously made it here from wherever he was held. 
He was covered in earth and grass, bit of leaves. 
Looks like he'd come through some rough country. 
From the state of his feet... well he'd been 
running on empty. Sheer adrenalin kept him going. 
Must have travelled for days. But he made it here. 
He got away. And he's alive Dana. "

"We have to get a forensic team out there," she 
jumped up, now with action to be taken she pushed 
her emotions aside and forced Agent Dana Scully to 
the forefront.  "We have to see if-."

"Scully...I've got a team outside waiting for 
instructions.  We'll get this bastard. I don't care 
what it takes. We will nail him." 
    
She almost smiled at his reassuring platitudes but 
without the desire or the energy to do so, she 
watched as he stepped away pulling out his cell 
phone and barked out his commands in as low a tone 
as he could afford.  He had taken the file with him 
and she wondered briefly if it was to save her from 
reading any more horrors committed on her partner's 
poor body.  
    
Beside her a door opened and a nurse in surgery 
scrubs walked out pulling a facemask off as the 
door closed behind her.  She passed Scully with 
only a glance but sitting up, Scully watched as the 
door opened again this time emitting more people 
into the corridor.  The last one to exit stopped 
before her and pulled his facemask under his chin.

"Ms Skinner?" he asked his eyebrows arched into his 
hairline. She tried to avoid starring at the blood 
all over his scrubs, knowing it was likely Mulder's 
blood.

"Dana Scully." She stood and smoothed down the 
front of her jumper.  "We're you operating on Fox 
Mulder? I'm his partner and next of kin."

"Yes I was told to meet with a Skinner afterwards.  
I'm Dr. Rick Wolfe."

" AD. Skinner has just gone to make a phone call.  
How is Mulder?"

"We've reset his arm, the swelling on his face will 
go down and the scans show no real damage to his 
brain. He narrowly avoided a pneumothorax and we 
reset all the broken ribs and we've also stitched 
some damaged muscles in his chest.  The stitches to 
his lower colon will dissolve of their own accord 
but he will be in a lot of discomfort for a while.

"He's going to be okay." Her words were more of a 
mantra than acceptance.
" He's been through the mill and he has a rough 
road ahead but I can see a full recovery for Mr 
Mulder."

"Full recovery?"

"Full physical recovery.  He has quite a long 
journey to go with no shortage of counselling.  The 
staff psychologist will talk to him when he is more 
lucid. They are taking him up in a few minutes. You 
can visit him in ICU."

"Of course."

"We could be looking at release in the next five to 
seven days if he progresses. He's a tough cookie to 
make it this far."

"Thank you, Dr. Wolfe. Can I see him?"

"He will be in recovery for an hour so then 
transferred to a private ICU room on the fourth 
floor.  I'll leave word for them to call you when 
he is settled enough for visitors."
    
He offered her a small smile and stepped around her 
walking back to the nurses' station.  Slumping back 
into the uncomfortable plastic she watched as 
Skinner approached Dr Wolfe.  Their eyes locked 
over the surgeon's shoulder and Scully could almost 
tell exactly what was being shared.  She stood as 
Skinner approached and her wan smile matched his 
own.

"There is a forensic team out by the phone booth 
right now."  He idly scratched his chest through 
the thick grey sweater searching for the right 
thing to say.  "It sounds like Mulder is going to 
be okay."

"His wounds will heal sir, but I'm not sure that he 
will ever be okay again."

She reluctantly let him pull her into a hug. 

"He has to be okay......I need my partner back 
whole. I just hope that he can be the Fox Mulder I 
know again. "

"However long it takes Scully."

"However long it takes..."


The End.

Skinfull 2004
www.undergroundtales.com


Authors Notes: Well first before I say anything I 
HAVE to thank Lisa for her endless beta abilities! 
If it wasn't for her I fear this fic may have 
deteriorated rapidly! I almost feel bad for not 
giving her collaborator credits! 

And now the science bit...this was part one of a 
trilogy. Part two being another of my fics called 
"In The Name Of The Father" which I will post to 
Ephy for those of you who haven't read it or wanna 
read it again. The third piece is called "Borrowed 
Time" but don't go wasting search engine energies 
coz it aint been written yet! (It's about half way 
through!)

Thanks for reading (if you made it this far!) and 
any feedback you have can be sent to 
skinfull@undergroundtales.com