RIPPED - The Collector's Edition by Crash CLASS: SRA RATING: R to NC-17 contains violence, language and sex KEYWORDS: X-File, Mulder/Scully Romance SPOILERS: Takes place during the 5th season SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully track a serial killer that thinks he's Jack the Ripper while attempting to train two young agents. Mayhem ensues. DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Cancer Man, Melvin Frohike and the X-Files all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions, Fox Broadcasting and the actors who so brilliantly portray them. No infringement is intended. All the other characters within are products of my own warped imagination. If you want to play with them you should ask me first ; ). ARCHIVISTS: Feel free to archive where you like as long as my name, e-mail address and disclaimer remain with it. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Whew! This was my first attempt at a long story and man am I worn out. But it's done and I hope you all like it. I want to stress that this is a work of fiction. I have used historical references in this story, but it is after all fiction. The source for my historical references is as follows: http://ripper.wildnet.co.uk/casebook.html. I highly recommend this sight if you are a Ripper buff. I'll warn you it's gory, but there is just tons of cool information there. I also got a bit of inspiration, nothing more, from Robert Bloch's book "Night of the Ripper" an excellent fictional account of the Ripper murders. Also, the drug Migratol mentioned in this piece is purely fictional. You are warned that this is a somewhat graphic piece, as the Ripper murders were graphic. There is also a sex scene towards the end so hide the kiddies. I also feel obligated to tell you that there are some questions left unanswered in this story. I leave it up to you to answer them, or wait for a possible sequel. ; ) Feedback of the constructive kind is welcome at mamymac@juno.com. I know this is a long piece so I beg you to hang with me. I'd also like to say a word of thanks to all of you who have sent feedback for my other stuff. Thank you so much for your encouragement and kind words, especially to Ten and frogdoggie who not only send wonderful critiques but keep me laughing. Now on with the show. Ripped By Crash Prologue Fox Mulder walked down the hall, towards his living room, toweling off his hair. At least, he guessed he'd call it a living room. Mulder's apartment was so small, he wasn't entirely sure much living got done there at all. His head jerked up involuntarily when his feet hit the cold, hardwood floor. He was only slightly surprised to see his partner lounging on his leather couch. He must have been in the shower when she got there. He hadn't heard her come in. Scully was engrossed in a file he'd left lying on the coffee table. Her hair fell slightly over one eye. Mulder smiled when he noticed she was wearing one of his old dress shirts, untucked, with a faded pair of blue jeans. Her legs were crossed at the ankles drawing attention to her bare feet. Her shoes sat neatly rowed next to his coffee table. A stark contrast to the chaotic jumble of files, take out boxes and discarded towels atop said coffee table. He tossed the towel aside, combing his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to make it look less messy. She still hadn't seen him yet and he took the opportunity to admire how good she looked. Idly, he thought Dana Scully was sexy without trying. But wearing his clothes she was lethal. A dozen different lurid thoughts ran through his head as continued his scrutiny of the petite redhead. Mulder always wanted to make love to her on that couch. It's the very place he'd fantasized about her before they'd admitted their feelings to one another. He still fantasized about her. In fact, he'd just been doing so in the shower. His grin became wicked. Scully flipped a page in the file, still oblivious to his presence. "Trust me Scully, the movie is much better." She started a little at the sound of his voice. Then, seeing him bare chested and damp from the shower, she greeted him with her blinding smile. "When'd you get here?" "A little while ago. You were in the shower. I made myself at home." "I see that. You could have joined me you know?" Her smile turned enigmatic. He loved his partner's passion and serious nature. Those things always served them well in the field. But combine them with her Irish temper and she could make a man twice her size cower. She often made Mulder more than a little shaky. But when she was feeling playful, that was another story. The southern parts of his anatomy were growing anxious. She crooked a finger at him, gesturing for him to join her on the couch. He padded across the room and slumped down near her, but just out of her reach. He wanted to tease her a bit. Instantly, he regretted his attempt to be cute. Eyebrow arched, she slid across the couch and leaned over him. She held both of his arms down and propped herself up on one knee. Leaning over him, the curtain of her flame hair obscured both of their faces. "I missed you," he breathed. She'd been visiting her mother the last couple of days. She'd spent Thanksgiving with her family at her mother's Maryland home. Scully's brother Bill was there and Mulder hadn't wanted to risk seeing him. His ego had taken quite a beating from Bill when Scully was in the hospital. "You missed me, huh?" He nodded idiotically. He was so pleased to see here he'd lapsed into a state that could only be described as happy puppy. "Terribly. Look at the mess I've made on my coffee table in my despondence." He was rewarded with a rare peel of Scully laughter. "Mulder, your messes have nothing to do with your 'despondence' over my absence. But speaking of messes," her head jerked in the direction of the file she'd been reading, "what's with the Jack the Ripper research." He sighed heavily. "Guess who's been asked to do another VCS consult?" She nodded grimly at him, knowing the answer. "Although, I'm kind of interested in this one. Our suspect has donned the Ripper's MO, almost to the letter. Sadly, history is also repeating itself in the sense that the cops are completely baffled." She arched her eyebrow again. "Where are we going and when does this little misadventure we're calling an investigation begin?" "Not to worry, Scully. VCS has only asked me to read over the material and give them my thoughts. Skinner tells me they aren't going to actually call us out on this one unless it becomes EXTREMELY necessary." She sighed contently. "Good, I need to relax a little after that misadventure I called a trip home," she chuckled slightly at her own joke. Then her smile faded and she fixed him with her blue eyes. "I missed you." Mulder traced the curve of her cheek with his finger before letting it settle on her lips. She placed a light kiss on his fingertip. "You care to show me how much you missed me, Agent Scully." She started to laugh but was cut short as Mulder pulled her into a crushing kiss. XxX December 31 8:00 AM Washington, DC Johnnie Suggs was gasping for air. His feet were pounding the pavement as fast as they could carry him. He heard the shouts of the older boys behind him, growing closer. He ran past the shop fronts lining 14th Street and saw an alley. He quickly turned and jumped behind a dumpster, just as he heard the older boys pass the alley. Johnnie covered his face with his hands and slid down the grimy wall of the alleyway into a crouch. He hated vacations from school. At least when he was in school the other boys were too occupied to pick on him. He could hang out with kids his age at school. But at home, in his neighborhood, he was always running from the older boys. The boys that always picked on him simply because he was younger and smaller. His breathing steadied and he moved to stand up but lost his balance. He toppled over backward and landed on something soft. And wet. He jumped at the sensation and whirled around to see what he'd landed on. His eyes bulged and he fought his gag reflex. Below him lie a body. One he'd just landed on. Johnnie was young, just 10 years old, but he'd lived in DC long enough to know what he was looking at. She was one of those women. The women his mother spoke of in hushed tones and with a certain amount of disdain. They wore too much makeup and clothes that were too bright. In the dark light of the alleyway this woman's clothes didn't look bright. They were torn and dirty and covered with blood. Johnnie craned his neck around and saw his own clothes had been tainted with 'evil woman's' blood. He started to cry. He shut his eyes and prayed he was anywhere but there. XxX 2:35 p.m. FBI Headquarters "Special Agent Erin Reilly." "Is this the VCS unit?" "Yes it is, sir. Can I help you?" "Yes, Agent Reilly. This is Detective Hodge with Metro Police. We've gotten another report of a possible Ripper copycat and I was told to inform your office." "Ripper copycat?" "Yes ma'am. Your office has been investigating a series of murders they believe are related. Guy's MO is like Jack the Ripper. Are you not familiar with the case?" "No sir. I just started a week ago. You must have been dealing with Special Agent Mullins. He's out for the holidays. I'm just the unlucky person covering for him. One of the other agents working on that is here. Where do you want me to send him?" After determining the PD were sending the body to the coroner's office, Special Agent Erin Reilly went in search of Agent Mullins partner. Her mind was furiously trying to come up with the man's name. Deep in thought she collided with Agent Rogers. Just then she realized he was the man she was looking for. "Sorry Reilly, you OK?" "Yeah, Rogers. Listen DC PD just called. They want you to head to the coroner's office. They just found another body matching the MO of the Ripper copycat murders." "Shit. Reilly do me a favor. Call this number." He began writing furiously on a piece of paper. "This is Special Agent Scully's number, beg her to meet me at the coroner's office. I don't want those moron's doing another autopsy and screwing it up. I can at least trust Scully." Reilly puzzled over the name. She remembered a red-haired woman she'd taken a forensics class from at Quantico. Was it possible she was working in the field now? She shrugged and made her way to her desk and dialed the number. XxX 3:40 p.m. DC Coroner's Office "Agent Scully, thank you for dragging out here on such short notice and on New Year's Eve." "It's OK Rogers," she smiled, "I'll remember this when you're on vacation." Chuckling at his horrified expression, Scully tried to sooth the man's nerves. "Agent Mulder had warned me we might get called in on this case when it started." The door to the autopsy room swung open and Mulder walked in. "I didn't miss anything did I?" he asked dryly. "No Mulder, we're just getting started." Scully replied. Scully noted Rogers and Mulder eyed one another suspiciously but they neither one spoke. Scully moved to the metal table where the corpse lie and pulled up her surgical mask. She picked up a scalpel from the tray of tools next to her. Using her free hand she pulled back the sheet covering the victim. And she gasped. The body that lie before her was barely recognizable. The face was grossly mutilated, the woman's nose had been completely cut off and her right eye had been removed. A long deep cut ran from her abdomen to her sternum. As she pulled the flaps of skin apart she noticed the intestines looked askew. She shot Rogers a look. "Has someone else already examined this woman?" "No Scully. When the police found her, the intestines had been pulled most of the way out of the body." Scully arched an eyebrow at him. She couldn't figure out where to begin. This woman had been hacked to bits. Hacked wasn't exactly the right word, though. Whoever had done this to her had used a very sharp, very long knife. The cuts were surgical in nature. She thought back to the research she'd read about the actual "Jack the Ripper". Mulder hadn't been kidding when he said their suspect was a student of the Ripper's methods. She leaned forward to look at the victim's neck and wasn't surprised to find bruises there. A closer inspection of the mouth revealed a swollen tongue. "Definitely strangled," Scully said more to herself than her two observers. "I'd estimate the time of death around 6 to 8 hours ago. It's textbook Ripper. I'd say our suspect strangled her, then mutilated the body. I'm assuming her right eye wasn't found at the crime scene." "No," Rogers replied. "Either rats got it or the suspect took it with him. She was found in an alleyway on 14th street this morning." "By whom?" "Some ten year old kid. PD said he was pretty shaken up by the whole thing." Mulder made his way from the corner he'd braced himself in over to Rogers. "Did the PD interview the boy?" Rogers nodded. "Have Metro PD send us a transcript and see if you can arrange an interview with him again." "You want to be there Mulder?" Mulder looked at the young agent appraisingly. Scully winced. She knew that look. Mulder was trying to assess what the man thought of him. She knew Rogers was new to the DC Field Office. He was young and had always been nice to her, but she'd only had to work with him indirectly a handful of times. Rogers had never once mentioned "Spooky" Mulder to her, even though she knew Mulder had consulted on one of the cases Rogers had been working on in New York. She remembered Mulder saying they never caught the suspect, but he never said much else. "Rogers, I've been asked to consult on this case. If you require my assistance I'll be there, as will Agent Scully. I know you're partner has some reservations about my working on this case and I'm sure you do as well, but I'm just following Acting Director Skinner's orders." Rogers partner, Ronald Mullins knew Mulder by reputation. Scully was certain how Mullins felt about Mulder. He'd given Mulder eight kinds of hell on their last 6 consults. It was obvious Mullins saw Mulder as a threat to his territory. Mullins had a shaky relationship at best with Skinner and for some reason thought Mulder was Skinner's golden boy. Scully had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Skinner ever coddling her partner. To his credit, Rogers was standing his ground against Mulder's scrutiny. "Agent Mullins is on vacation, Mulder. He's out for the next week skiing somewhere. Special Agent Reilly is filling in for him in the interim. She's new to the DC Field Office, so we could really use your help." Reilly. The name seemed familiar to Scully. The woman had called her to come down and do the autopsy and she'd idly thought Reilly's voice sounded familiar. She crossed the room to stand next to her partner. Pulling her mask away she addressed them both. "We'll do whatever we need to help with your investigation. You just let us know when and where we're supposed to be. Mulder, let's go. I'd like to have a look at those Ripper files you've got." XxX 11:30 p.m. Suggs Residence Washington, DC Johnnie Suggs stared at the ceiling willing his mind to let him sleep. He kept seeing the bloody visage of the woman he haplessly landed on that morning. He cringed and rolled himself into a ball. He'd asked his mother to throw out the clothes he'd been wearing. The mere thought of them made his stomach twist in knots. Johnnie had heard all the stories on the news. A serial killer was on the loose and he was preying on DC's prostitutes. The way his mom talked about the prostitutes he'd idly thought maybe that was a good thing. But after what he saw this morning, he was horrified. He shivered under his covers. He was cold. He'd been so cold at the police station he could barely hear himself answering the officer's questions through his chattering teeth. Johnnie didn't know that it was shock he was suffering from. He just knew he was so very scared. Sure, growing up in DC you experience a lot of things. A lot of bad things. He'd had a cousin disappear and then turn up dead three years ago. His own mother had been attacked in the street by a man needing money for a crack fix. Then there had been his father... But he'd never seen violence, or the effects of it, like he had today. Somewhere, deep in his mind, Johnnie knew even crackheads weren't that violent. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he still saw her face. The eyes. Lord help us all, her eye was gone. The hole gaped at him like a scream. His body twitched and he pulled himself deep under the covers. He wanted to blot it out, hide from it. Tears spilled down his face and he finally allowed himself to cry. As he was riding home, his aunt had told him to pray for the soul of the dead woman. "Even though she was..." "Johnnie, no one deserves to die like that." His mother had other ideas. A prostitute had killed Johnnie's father when he was three. The woman had a heroin habit and attempted to rob Johnnie's father. Something went wrong and the woman stabbed his father to death. His young mother was left alone and jobless with a small boy to care for. His mother had been angry when he got home. His aunt kept telling her she was just scared and to calm down. But his mom kept pacing and ranting about God's justice. She'd ordered Johnnie to take a shower because he'd been defiled. Johnnie wondered what he'd done wrong. Why was his mom so mad at him? He didn't mean to fall on that bad woman. He was just hiding from people who meant to do him harm. Exhaustion loomed before him and his eyes slipped shut once again. He gripped his pillow tightly and slipped into a fitful sleep. XxX 11:45 p.m. Location Unknown The clock on the wall chimed the quarter hour then resumed its rhythmic ticking. A man sat in a chair facing it, starring at the small glass jar on the table in front of him. He was aware it was almost time to go, but he was tired. He could only guess why. Jack would be there soon, he knew. Jack would come and take him away. He always did. The man's lab coat lie draped across his lap, he fingered the name tag over the pocket. "Dr. Sullivan Chambers." He chuckled ruefully at his daytime identity. The person who healed the sick and injured during the day. Chambers didn't really know how to think of the person he was in the nighttime hours. Jack took over from there. Jack couldn't stand his shy, gentle nature. Jack laughed at Chambers' neat suits and perfectly combed hair. Jack didn't like the classical music Sullivan listened to when he was relaxing. Jack didn't care for the antiques Chambers decorated his home with. He seldom even went into those rooms, preferring instead to stay in Chambers' home office which was cluttered with modern things like Chambers' computer. Jack didn't want to be reminded of the past. So Jack never stayed long. The minute hand on the clock clicked forward and Chambers knew it was time. The voice boomed in his head. "Hello Sullie. You ready to party ol' boy? It's New Year's Eve, chap. I'd say it's 'bout time to go 'round, eh Sullie?" His grip tightened around the tumbler of scotch in his hand. "Leave me ALONE!" A peel of laughter gurgled through his head and the scotch tumbled to the floor. "Oh Sullie, you've got to change clothes, we can't have you looking like some gentleman, can we? You're no gentleman Sullie. You're a beast!" Chambers rose out of his chair and swung at the air, striking at his tormentor. He struck nothing but air and stumbled forward a couple of steps toward the hallway. He knew it was useless to fight. Jack's voice beckoned him to his bedroom. He stood before his antique wardrobe and threw the doors open. His work clothes were neatly rowed in the walk-in closet behind him. But his wardrobe housed the clothes he wore for his other occupation. "Wear the jeans with the hole in the knee, Sullie. That's right ol' boy, just lose the dress shirt and find a clean t-shirt. He stood before the cherry dressing mirror in the corner. Jack cursing him to do something with his hair. He tore his fingers through his hair and stared at the man in the mirror into Jack's eyes. Jack was wild. His dark brown hair hung in Chambers' eyes and cared nothing about the light stubble on his chin that Chambers would rather immediately shave. He sat on the bed and tugged on a black pair of cowboy boots. Going back to the wardrobe he pulled a long black duster out and pulled it on. Jack crossed the room to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. Nestled just underneath the undershirts was a knife. The blade was long and quite sharp. The handle was a well-honed oak, but only Jack knew that. He'd covered it with electrical tape to keep it from getting stained. Jack had used the knife many times and he had intentions of using it again tonight. Jack felt Chambers squirming inside him but he was too powerful for the mild-mannered doctor. "Sullie, you've used the body all day. It's my turn." He carefully tucked the cruel blade away in the inside, breast pocket of the duster. He walked down the hall to the back door. He reached up to the shelf next to the door to retrieve Sullivan's keys. His large hand up ended a bottle of pills and sent them crashing to the floor. Chambers would have picked them up immediately but Jack had no time. He flung open the door and disappeared into the night. XxX Jan. 1 12:01 a.m. Dana Scully Residence "Happy New Year Scully." Mulder whispered, nuzzling his partner's ear "Now put down that stupid file." Mulder reached up and turned the lamp on the coffee table off, snuffing out Scully's reading light. She shot him an evil glance but set the file aside. "Mulder, I want to get to work on the profile of this guy." "We're off tomorrow, Scully. Rogers and Reilly have got it for the time being. We can take a breather tonight. I promise, we'll look at files all day tomorrow, but let's forget the case for now, OK?" He placed a small kiss behind her ear. She sighed and touched his face, smiling lightly. He was glad he'd gotten through to her without much of an argument. She hadn't been the same since they'd left the coroner's office. She'd barely said three words through dinner and then wanted to dive straight into the research when they got back to her apartment. "Sorry," she said quietly. "You know Mulder, we've seen a lot of really brutal, bizarre stuff...but that woman...I...it was just so violent. What kind of monster..." He cut her off with a kiss. "Scully, don't go there now." He pulled her into his arms and she tucked her head under his chin. He began to trace little circles on her back. "Let go, don't let it suck you in." Mulder wasn't sure who he'd said that to. His mind had begun working on the suspect from the moment he'd compiled the research. It had been well over 100 years since a shadowy figure dubbed Jack the Ripper had terrorized and brutally murdered prostitutes in London. The work the police did at the time was remarkable considering the Ripper's murders happened before fingerprinting, let alone forensic science, even existed. Those things still didn't always help modern day investigators catch serial killers. The truth of the matter is a serial killer is hard to apprehend no matter how good your tools are. The London police never caught the Ripper. The best they could do was come up with suspects and, even then, they could never agree on one. So Jack the Ripper remained one of history's great mysteries. Mulder had read extensively about the Ripper. He'd been fascinated by the case when he studied profiling. None of the investigators at the time used that method to track suspects. But Mulder had studied the Ripper case at the Academy. There was no question, whoever the Ripper was, he had been a brilliant, cunning killer. "Maybe you should follow your own advice, Mulder." Scully said sensing his dark thoughts. He jerked his head down to look in her eyes and kissed her softly. He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "I think you're right Agent Scully." He pulled her up off the couch and led her towards her bedroom. "I say we ring in 1998 with a bang, what do you think?" "Don't you mean 'boom boom', Mulder?" she said arching a brow at him. He laughed and pulled her onto the bed with him, working the buttons free from her blouse. "Whatever floats your boat, Scully." XxX 2:45 a.m. Alleyway off 14th St. NW She knew the risks when she decided this would be her profession. But as the last strands of consciousness ebbed away into the abyss she felt cheated. She knew she was dead, but she knew even after her life was gone there would be further abuses to the body in which she'd lived her sordid life. She'd gone through the last ten years of her life not feeling. She refused to feel the insults hurled at her in the streets. Didn't feel the sex she had with men in order to pay her rent, feed herself and her habit. She didn't feel the needles she injected into her arms, webs of fingers or toes to get the next fix. She had just stopped feeling. So why now, when her life was slipping away from her, did she suddenly feel. Pain raged in her body like she'd never known before. She wasn't sure if it was real or just the shear panic she was experiencing. She would have screamed if she could but there was simply no oxygen with which to scream. Black dots floated before her eyes and she knew her knees would give way soon. His grip tightened impossibly further and collapsed, helpless, to the filth of the pavement below her. And she was dead. She could no longer fight whatever this monster wanted to do her. It wasn't as though she'd fought the other monsters in her life. The abusive men and the drug addiction. They'd strangled the life away from her over and over before she ever picked this man up. The only difference was this man wanted blood. XxX 3:01 a.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully twisted fitfully in her sleep. She was fighting for air. She twisted and turned from the hands that bound her throat. She gulped for air but could get none. She was desperately trying to break free. Where is Mulder? Why doesn't Mulder help me? She thrust herself backward away from the crushing power of her attacker's hands and smacked her head resoundly on her headboard. Her eyes flew open only to find Mulder tearing vehemently at a sheet wrapped around her throat. "Scully! Scully! Wake up!" As the sheet came free she felt a surge of air rush back into her lungs. She coughed a little and then sat up, still gasping for air. "How the hell did you manage to get those sheets wrapped around your neck Scully?" Mulder asked. His face was totally pale. He'd been as frightened as she was. "You scared the hell out of me." "I assure you, it was no picnic for me either." She switched the light on next to the bed and made her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water. She turned on the light and reached for the glass sitting on the counter. She froze when she saw her image in the mirror. Thin purple lines mottled the column of her throat. She traced her finger over the skin and winced. Mulder suddenly appeared behind her and she turned abruptly. His jaw fell, "Christ, Scully." He traced the lines with his finger, "That sheet couldn't have been that tight." "Mulder." Her tone was threatening. "I'm not channelling a Ripper victim. Don't even think it." Despite her words, the images of her dream were contradictory to her statement. She knew from what she'd read how all those women died. Her scientific mind supplied she'd merely projected what she'd read onto herself. But another part of her shuddered at how real it felt. She slowly moved closer to Mulder, putting her hands on his waist. He looked down at her and she tucked her head under his chin. She slipped her hands all the way around his waist and held him tightly. "Just hold me, Mulder. Don't say anything. Don't speculate. Just hold me." XxX Jan. 2 8:32 a.m. FBI Headquarters Erin Reilly thought she was familiar with the building, but she was shocked to learn they actually had offices in the basement. Rogers had joked that Fox Mulder didn't play well with others so he'd been stored down there. Reilly had heard all the rumors about "Spooky" Mulder but she was inclined to ignore them. She'd studied his profile work at the Academy and had a sense he was brilliant, even if his ideas fell outside the norm on occasion. As she made her way to the basement, she was a little excited at the prospect of working with him. Mullins was due back in a couple of days, but in the meantime Rogers still needed her help. There had been another murder on New Year's Eve, well technically New Year's Day, and Roger's had asked Reilly to take the reports to Mulder and his partner. Acting Director Skinner had asked him to let Mulder do some of the footwork on the latest murder. Her heels clicked lightly on the cement floor as she exited the elevator. She found Mulder's office easily enough. She rapped softly and was surprised when a female voice responded. "Come in." Erin entered the small office and was taken aback by the cluttered surroundings. She was facing a desk littered with papers and files. The name placket announced it belonged to the agent she was looking for. She turned to her left to see another desk. Her flame-haired, former instructor sitting at it looking somewhat bemused. "Aren't you Erin Reilly?" "Yes, I took a forensics class from you at the Academy Agent Scully." Scully nodded. "I thought you looked familiar. What brings you down here?" "I recently started working with VCS. I transferred here from the Portland field office. I'm filling in for Agent Mullins while he's on vacation. Agent Rogers asked me to bring these reports down for Agent Mulder and..." "Me. I'm his partner. Let me guess, Skinner wants us to do a little legwork," she said with a dry smile. Reilly merely nodded. She felt more than a little nervous around Scully. Despite Mulder's reputation as a brilliant kook, Scully had gained a reputation as being a brilliant pathologist and a keen investigator. Reilly was all to cognizant of Mulder and Scully's solve rate. People might be leery of Agent Scully's oddball partner, but Reilly knew they were an unstoppable team. Scully reached out and took the files from Reilly. "I'll hang on to them. As you might guess, things run a high chance of becoming lost forever in the Bermuda Triangle over there," she waved a hand in the direction of Mulder's desk. Reilly tried to fight it, but she couldn't. She let loose with a laugh. Scully's eyebrow arched, she seemed surprised someone would laugh at her joke. "I'm sorry Agent Scully, but his desk is...daunting." Scully laughed with her. "Yes, Agent Mulder's filing system is a tad unorthodox, but it seems to work for him. What are your thoughts on this case, Reilly. I know you haven't been working on it long, but I'm sure you studied the Ripper at Quantico. Why is this guy so hard to catch?" "Are you asking if I have a theory?" Scully nodded. "No serial killer is ever easy to catch. I'd say the guy's some sort of obsessive compulsive who has studied the Ripper's crimes and decided to try it himself." "Why do you say obsessive compulsive?" "Well, it's generally held there were 5 known Ripper victims, although some put the number as high as 9. Our suspect is on number 10. My logic tells me he's not stopping either. From what I've read about our case and what I've read about the Ripper, it's as if this guy is just repeating the crimes on different women over and over again. "If you read the post mortems of the murder's that occurred in 1888 and the murder's that occurred over the last three months there is a pattern. The murderer repeats, nearly to the letter, the wounds of the 5 most prominent Ripper murders. He never quite manages to duplicate the cuts, but he comes closer each time." Scully nodded. "It's a sound theory, Reilly. I would agree with you." "What does Agent Mulder think?" Scully shook her head. "I'm not sure what Agent Mulder's theory is and I'm not sure I want to know. His profile suggests we're dealing with a man 25 to 35 years of age, of above average intelligence with a strong build. He believes the man has an extreme hatred of women, perhaps having suffered some form of sexual embarrassment with a woman, most likely a prostitute." Reilly spun on her heel as she heard the door behind her swing open. A tall brown haired man stepped through it, eyes heavily lidded. He seemed very much alert, but had the appearance of being quite sleepy. The man shot Scully a glance. "Geez Scully, if I'd known we were having company I would've cleaned up a little," he said staring at the rubbage dump atop his desk. Reilly choked down a nervous laugh. "Special Agent Erin Reilly, Agent Mulder. I'm filling in for Mullins until he returns from vacation." "Well that's too bad. Can't you convince Mullins to stay on vacation? He's hard to work with," Mulder drawled. "Mulder!" Reilly noted Scully chastised her partner like a wayward child, "You've known Agent Reilly all of 30 seconds." He smiled, unrepentant, and moved to his desk. "I'm sorry Agent Reilly. Scully's right, that was terribly rude of me," he said sarcastically, "What brings you to our cheerful, basement hovel?" "Agent Rogers asked me to bring you some reports. Acting Director Skinner wants..." The jangle of the phone on Scully's desk interrupted her. "Scully...Yes, sir. We're on our way." Scully hung up the phone. "Skinner wants us all in his office ASAP. Reilly I hope you know where Rogers is." XxX 9:01 a.m. Director Skinner's Office "Agents, please have a seat. I'm afraid I have some unsettling news for you. Special Agent Mullins died yesterday afternoon. He suffered massive head trauma after colliding with a tree on his ski trip. Agent Reilly, I'm assigning you to the Ripper case with Agent Rogers since you're already familiar with it. "Agents Mulder and Scully, I'm assigning you both as the primary SAC's on this case. Rogers and Reilly are both relatively new to the VCS. Until further notice, they'll be reporting to you. Please make sure you divide up the work on this case as necessary. I'll also be expecting a progress report from you by close of business tomorrow." All four of the agents stared at Skinner. Scully dimly wondered what to say. She noticed Rogers wince when Skinner had informed them of the shift in the case. She imagined Rogers would be effected by the death of his partner, but he seemed a little more disturbed at the prospect of working with Mulder. Mulder, she noticed, had merely shrugged. It had been weeks since they'd been out on an X-File and he seemed barely phased. "Agent Scully have you performed an autopsy on the latest victim?" Skinner inquired. "No, sir. The ME on call at the coroner's office performed it. I've read the report, however. The wounds and cause of death are consistent with our suspect. We've developed a profile," she said shooting Mulder a glance, "But Agent Reilly suggested something to me this morning we hadn't previously considered." Scully nodded at Reilly. Reilly cleared her throat, "Yes, sir. After studying the post mortem reports of both the current victims and the 1888 victims. It seems our killer is someone bent on repeating the Ripper murders until he gets the technique down to the letter." Skinner jerked his head in acknowledgement. "Are there any witnesses?" Rogers responded, "Other than the people who have found the bodies, no sir. Reilly and I are going to canvass the neighborhood again today. We interviewed the ten year old boy who found the December 31/January 1 victim, but we didn't get much out of him." Skinner cut his glance to Mulder. "Mulder I think you and Agent Scully should stake out the 14th street corridor this evening. See if you can approach some of the prostitutes. Someone has to have seen something. I'll expect that report tomorrow afternoon. You're all dismissed." XxX 10:03 a.m. Location Unknown Sullivan Chambers awoke nude on his sofa. His hair stuck out all over and he imagined he must have gotten his hair wet some how the night before. He didn't remember how he'd gotten to the sofa, let alone without his clothes. His head ached fiercely, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open against the blinding sunlight. He rose tenderly off the sofa and padded into the kitchen to find his medication. Chambers often suffered from migraines, this morning was no different. He was glad he didn't have to go into work today. As bad as this headache was, even his medication wasn't going to stop it. He'd been trying an experimental drug. A friend of his worked for a pharmaceutical company and she'd given him the drug to try. He knew it was a bad idea to try drugs the FDA hadn't approved yet, but his headaches had worsened. He'd been idly chatting with his friend, Molly Suggs, about the problem when she suggested he try the drug. Unlike other medications he'd taken, this one didn't make him sleepy. He'd even found he could take it when he worked. He found the bottle lying on the floor. He wondered how it had gotten there, then he noticed his keys weren't on the peg he usually hung them on. He shrugged. Given his lack of memory of the previous night, he must have just mislaid them. He got a glass down from the cabinet and filled it with water. He quickly swallowed his pills. A small draft of air came in from the door that he realized wasn't all the way closed. He shivered and moved to close it. Chambers walked into his room and pulled a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from his bureau and put them on. His bed beckoned to him. He had no idea why he was tired, he felt like he'd been asleep for hours. But since he had the day off, he figured he could indulge himself in a few hours more sleep. He gave into his temptation and slipped under the comforter and let his eyes slip shut. XxX 11:30 a.m. Metropolitan Police Department Washington, DC "So what's in the bag of goodies, Reilly?" Reilly shot her partner a glance. She hadn't really decided what she thought of John Rogers just yet. He seemed to be a good investigator, his reports were thorough and he was always eager to check the next lead. But he was also full of himself. He was always boasting about his exploits in New York. He claimed they'd practically begged him to come to DC. The only time he ever seemed nervous was in Mulder's presence. She'd overheard some of the things he'd said to other agents about Mulder. Rogers had been clear he was of the "Spooky" school of thought. Yet, whenever Mulder was around, he seemed cowed. She imagined he must be mortified at having to work under him on this case. "That's evidence bag to you Rogers," she said trying to keep her tone light. "These are the articles they found on our latest victim, a Mary Alice Kiley. Nothing seems too unusual, except she has two sets of keys...or it looks like she had two." "Maybe she had a fear of losing a set," he said sarcastically. "Then why would she keep them in the same place," Reilly retorted narrowing her eyes at him. "Besides, look at the keychains. I hate to sound sexist, but why would someone have a bright pink, heart-shaped key chain and a brown leather woven one. This leather one is decidedly male." "So maybe she lifted it off one of her Johns." "What good would his keys do her if she didn't have his address, Rogers?" "Maybe she had his address somewhere else." Erin shrugged. It was possible, but she decided to lift prints off of it just the same. It was probably nothing but any lead was worth following up at this point. She placed the keychains back in their respective plastic bags and deposited them in her briefcase. "I still want to lift the prints, Rogers. Leads are leads." He nodded. They slowly walked down the corridor together. "So how do you feel about reporting to Mr. and Mrs. Spooky, Reilly?" She snorted. "Rogers, they have an excellent solve rate. Mulder is a brilliant psychologist and Scully is a brilliant pathologist. On this case, I can't think of two people I'd rather have in our corner. Why don't you like them?" "Mulder is just too weird. And as for Scully, it's a shame such a beautiful woman has to be so cold." His remark ground at her feminist sensibilities and she stopped dead in her tracks. "Don't be an ass, Rogers. You don't know what it's like. You have no idea. Being a woman in this testosterone cesspool you refer to as the FBI is not easy. I have to work twice as hard to get half the recognition you do for simply showing up to work. Why should any of us be friendly with any of you bastards when you consistently show us no respect?" Rogers grew pale. "Geez Reilly, take it easy. I respect you. You've put in as much work on this case as I have. I wasn't trying to disparage you or YOUR work." "But that's not how you feel about Agent Scully." "I'm just a little upset at being babysat by the Ice Queen and King Weirdo. Mullins told me about Mulder, he said he was a head case. And as for Scully, she's a looker but I've got to question her alleged 'brilliance' for working with such a kook." Reilly pushed past him walking quickly. He was quick on her heels behind her. They got to the car and she got in to drive. He sat next to her, starring bemusedly. Reilly seethed. Here she was trying to give this guy a chance and he wouldn't even give their superiors a chance. They'd been working with them less than a day. "What Reilly? What is it?" "Why is it with men, looks always have to enter into the equation? What could that possibly have to do with anyone's abilities or intelligence, Rogers?" "Could we just drop this?" He paled. She dimly thought it must have just dawned on him what an ass he'd made of himself. "I admit, it was a stupid remark and I'm sorry." She turned the engine over. She replayed the ugly scene in Portland over and over in her mind. She hadn't wanted to leave Portland, but her supervisor had felt she needed to put in some overtime to get promoted. Overtime with him, and only him. She'd filed a complaint according to procedure. But since he was the old dog that had been there for years, he was given a slap on the wrists and she was shipped away to DC, under the guise of a promotion. Now here she was sitting next to someone who would probably do the same thing if given the chance. <"She's a looker," he'd said. What kind of infantile remark was that?> She gripped the steering wheel tightly. OK, maybe that wasn't fair. It was just a stupid remark, maybe Rogers was just trying to make conversation and failed miserably. He had never said a disrespectful thing to her before. He certainly looked sheepish at the moment. She sighed heavily and put the car in gear. XxX 11:45 p.m. 14th Street Corridor Washington, DC Rain drummed on the roof of the navy blue Crown Victoria. Mulder spit the shell of a sunflower seed into a paper cup. Scully had chastised him time and time again about drawing attention to them by spitting seeds out the window. He was amused at her suggestion, considering the fleet vehicles they were forced to drive. The damn things practically screamed LAW ENFORCEMENT VEHICLE. He sat the cup on the dash board and admired his sleeping partner. Her head was rolled back on the head rest, her lips slightly parted. She hadn't gotten much sleep after the nightmare she had last night. The bruises had faded slightly, but she still wore a turtleneck sweater to hide the damage. He shook his head. She kept insisting the tangled sheet had done it. He believed the culprit was altogether otherworldly. But as usual, Scully wasn't buying into that line of thought. Something was bothering her about this case. He was sure of it. Ever since she'd read over the files she seemed distant. They still made love, but he'd noted it was without some of the earlier passion she'd showed. She seemed now just to want him to hold her, protect her. Patently un-Scullylike behavior. Outside, Mulder could see vagrants and prostitutes milling around. They were all steering clear of the Crown Victoria. They knew who he and his partner were. He watched from a distance. Three of the women were lined up against a brick wall, waiting for trade. Pink, yellow and red dresses lit up the night. He could see it from a block away. He wondered what brought those women to do such a thing. In the Ripper's time, usually the woman had lost her husband and with him the money she needed to survive. Or, as was the case with all of the Ripper's victims, a combination of lack of money and alcohol dependence. A thought struck him. He seemed to remember all of the copycat victims showed signs of drug addiction. Track marks or damaged nose cartilage. The chirping of his cell phone startled him out of his reverie. "Mulder." "Agent Mulder this is Agent Reilly." "Hey Reilly, what can I do for you?" "I don't know if this means anything, but PD found two keychains at the scene of the last crime. They assumed they both belonged to the victim but I had prints lifted from them and they don't match. It's a long shot, but what if our killer lost his keys." "Have you run the prints through the NCIC database?" "Yeah, but nothing comes up." "Hmm. Well, hold onto them. It's a possible lead. Better than anything else we've got at the moment. By the way, Reilly. What made you think both keychains didn't belong to the victim?" "Well one was decidedly feminine and the other was decidedly masculine." "How so?" "Well one was a pink plastic heart. The other was a leather braid with a bronze metal like thing attached." "Yeah, I must say most men I know aren't into pink hearts. Any inscription on metal piece?" "Yeah. It says Leather Apron." Mulder's eidetic memory whirled into high gear. He'd heard the phrase before. Leatherapronleatherapronleatherapron. "REILLY! That was one of the names the London media ascribed to the Ripper." Reilly was silent for a moment. "What do you want me to do with this Mulder?" "Take it down and put it on Agent Scully's desk. It's not much but it's a start. Good thinking. Be in our office early in the morning, I'll want to have a look at that and talk to you and Rogers about your other findings this afternoon." XxX Location Unknown 12:01 a.m. The cool porcelain of the toilet bowl cooled Chambers head. The nausea started a few hours ago and hadn't stopped. As migraines went, this one was a humdinger. He'd already taken four of his pills and his head was still gripped in a vice. He'd slept all day until the headache would no longer let him. So he sat in a pathetic heap by his toilet, clinging to it like a needy child. His vision blurred and then cleared and he suddenly felt the urge to rise. Standing on shaky legs, he found a glass next to his sink and ran some water into it. He took long gulps and then splashed some water onto his face. He raised his head to the mirror and faced Jack. "Damn your feeble body, Sullie. I guess I'll not go 'round tonight. You'd get us caught and I don't want to spend any time with the bobbies, ya' know. Guess I'll ha' to do double duty tomorrow night, eh Sullie. We gotta get you ready for that. You need a drink ol' bean. Remember how well it worked last night. Didn't feel a thing did ya' chapper? Go on. There's a brand new bottle of Glenfiddich in your wardrobe. I put it there for ya' last night. We had a fine time Sullie ol' boy. But this last one didn't put up much of a fight, kinda disappointin'." Chambers had staggered to the wardrobe, barely clinging to the glass in his left hand. Opening the door he found the bottle in question, a white t-shirt wrapped around it. He pulled the bottle out and the t-shirt dropped to the floor. Chambers didn't notice the small, dried drops of blood that dotted the front. The gold liquid splashed into his glass and he gulped it down greedily and sat the glass down on his nightstand. Jack admonished him. "What're ya' doin' Sullie? Drink up. You've got research ta' do tonight. Get your arse down that hall and start readin'. We almost got the cuts right, but we still got a long way ta' go. Study, study, study ol' boy." The scotch burned as it flowed down his throat but warmed him as it reached his belly. The nausea had somehow vanished. He walked down the corridor to his study. He clicked the light on and stood before his bookcase. He pulled one of the leather-bound volumes down and turned it to a dogged-eared page. The black and white photos he stared at didn't do justice to the gore they depicted. But it was enough to give him an idea. He studied each of the post mortem photographs of five of the officially accepted victims of Jack the Ripper. He read the physician's descriptions of the wounds over and over again, trying to memorize each deep slash. He quickly swallowed another tumbler full of scotch. The whole room warmed inexplicably and he began to feel tired again. The words and pictures swirled on the page before him and his head dipped. He drifted back into sleep, sprawled in his leather wingback chair. XxX 2:40 a.m. Dana Scully Residence "Hey, wake up, you're home." "Huh, what..." Scully stirred in her seat, "What time is it?" "Twenty til three. Nothing was happening. Guess we'll be having that fun all over again tomorrow." Scully groaned. "We have to do that report tomorrow." "Yeah and we've got a meeting with the young G-people first thing in the morning too." "Mmm, yeah the keychain. Pretty good work for such a youngster," Scully smiled. "I think you're even impressed with her." Mulder smiled, "Yeah, but not as impressed as I am with you." "Just because you sleep with me..." "No. You know it's more than that," he said, suddenly serious. "Mulder. I wasn't implying anything, I was just teasing you. You usually like it when I do that," she leered. "You're right. And you haven't done it so much lately." Scully looked down. He was right. She hadn't wanted to tell him. This case had really gotten to her. The first night she'd seen the pictures of both the old and current victims the nightmares had started. She kept picturing herself as one of those women being slaughtered at the hands of a sexual serial killer. At first it hadn't bothered her much, but now she'd even gotten afraid of being intimate. As if the act of having sex would lead to the act of murder. She didn't understand it but she was petrified. Mulder hadn't said anything, but she knew he sensed something was wrong. Even when they made love last night, she'd held back. She felt restrained by something she couldn't explain. In the end, she'd wound up turning away from him and asking him to just hold her. She hated what was happening to her. The last thing she wanted was distance from Mulder. They had to pretend so much distance already. "I know Mulder. I'm sorry, I guess this case is just getting under my skin." "You can talk to me about it." "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Let's just get the damn thing solved. Go home and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." XxX Jan. 3 8:45 a.m. FBI Headquarters Fox Mulder entered his office to find Reilly and Scully already scrutinizing the keychains. If he didn't know better he'd say the two women in front of him were sisters. It wasn't so much that they looked alike, Reilly had brown hair and almost black piercing eyes, but they both shared an intensity. He supposed he saw the similarity because Reilly had been a student of Scully's. He also sensed Reilly struggled within the male confines of the FBI as much as Scully did. "Morning." They both started. They'd been so engrossed in the evidence before them, they hadn't even heard him come in. "Morning, Mulder," Scully offered with a smile despite the fact the rest of her face seemed to frown. Dark circles were almost invisible under her thin layer of makeup. More nightmares, he surmised. Reilly nodded at him. "I'll bite Mulder. Why did they call him leather apron?" "Well Reilly, Leather Apron was one of the suspects. He was a butcher who wore a leather apron." "So why would this person have that inscribed on his keychain?" Reilly mused. "It's like you said, Reilly," Scully offered, "the guy has obviously studied the crimes. It fits with our obsessive compulsive component of the profile." "Where's Rogers?" Mulder groused. Reilly seemed to pale a little. "He said he thought we were on a wild goose chase and went to the firing range this morning." Mulder tensed and started to say something but Scully cut him off. "Mulder, why don't you get started on our report for Skinner. Reilly and I will go to the firing range and round up Rogers. I think we should send them back out to the neighborhood again and see if they can drum something up. I'll be back to help you with the report shortly." XxX 9:30 a.m. FBI Firing Range Scully walked quickly, Reilly just a step behind her. Scully had been surprised at what Reilly had told her about Rogers' behavior. She didn't suspect he'd be the kind of Agent that would be a sexist. Scully surmised Rogers had just forgotten to think before he spoke. Mulder did that a lot, she was familiar with it. But refusing to show up for a meeting on the case you're working on was a different matter. Scully was not about to let the young agent be insubordinate to Mulder or her. They rounded the corner and slipped the protective ear phones over their ears. Scully approached the third stall where Rogers was busily practicing. Each gunshot mirroring her steps closer and closer to him. When she got behind him, he saw her out of the corner of his eye and stopped firing. "Hello Agent Scully." "You mind explaining to me why you felt it was more important to visit the firing range than to attend our meeting this morning." "I figured you guys had it all under control, there was no reason for me to be there. Reilly knows everything I do," he said angrily. "Is that so? Or is it that you think the evidence your partner uncovered isn't pertinent to our case?" Rogers looked at his feet sheepishly. He reminded her of Mulder in his more recalcitrant moods. He remained mute, feeding Scully's anger. She was already tired and now she was cross. An arrogant young agent refusing to pull his load certainly wasn't going to solve this case any faster. "You listen to me Agent Rogers. As your superior on this case, I order you to attend any meeting Agent Mulder or I call, even if it's to discuss the weather. Is that clear?" Rogers nodded his head. "You may have been a hot shot in New York, but you've proved NOTHING to me so far. I've given Agent Reilly your assignment for the day. Take your instructions from her." Scully spun and walked away quickly, the loud sound of her heels clicking on the cement. XxX 10:45 a.m. Location Unknown Chambers tossed the paper bag containing his new spare keys onto his kitchen table. He couldn't believe he'd lost his keys. Fortunately, he kept spares of everything but it was still a hassle to go and have new ones made. But he didn't want to take any chances. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and gulped it down with his pills. He was so glad the migraine was gone. He'd been so miserable yesterday. At least it was Saturday and he had the whole day to catch up on the errands he needed to run yesterday. He picked up his paper and wandered into his living room to read it. He settled into his favorite chair. The one in front of his coffee table that faced the antique clock. He skipped over all the stories about the prostitute murders in the paper. He had no idea why it was such a big story. These women were marginal members of society at best. It wasn't like the police cared enough to catch the guy. He sat the section down on his coffee table and was startled. Sitting on the edge of the coffee table was a glass jar. The contents of which was staring back at him. A brown eye, its pupil clouded, faced him. It was covered with a clear liquid. He didn't remember bringing anything like that home. His hand trembled as he reached for it. "So ya' found our lil' trophy did ya' Sullie?" "GET OUT OF HERE YOU BASTARD!" "Oh Sullie, ya' don't wan' me to do that now do ya'? Your life is so boring without me. Calm down ol' bean, just take the jar and put it with the rest of our collection." Chambers picked up the jar and walked, zombie-like, to his basement. He pulled the cord above him, illuminating the dark space. He faced the huge shelves that took up one whole wall of the basement. Several jars lined the shelves, each containing a different piece of viscera. Chambers placed the jar next to one containing a kidney. "Atta boy Sullie. Look how our lovely collection has grown. But we need more Sullie. I need more. Better get upstairs an' get some rest chapper, it's going to be a busy evenin'." XxX 11:45 a.m. 14th Street Corridor "I guess you're pleased with yourself?" Rogers said to his partner indignantly. He couldn't believe this. It was bad enough he was forced to work with Prince Nutball and the Ice Queen, but having them place his rookie partner in charge of their duties for the day was more than he could handle. Reilly shot him a glance. "You're the one who decided he was too good to show up to the meeting, Rogers." "I had nothing to add. You've obviously convinced Mulder and Scully what a genius you are, it was your show. I didn't need to be there." Reilly's eyes widened then narrowed to slits, so that he could only see the black in her pupils. It really unnerved him when she did that. So full of fire this woman. It scared and excited him. "This is OUR case Rogers. I'm not trying to outshine you, I'm just trying to solve the damn thing. In case you've forgotten there is a murderer on the loose. Honestly, John has your insecurity gotten the best of you?" She spat the final words at him with pure venom. He stopped short on the sidewalk as she kept walking ahead of him. John? She'd called him John. OK, Rogers, once again you've managed to totally piss off your partner. Reilly, on the other hand, managed to cut through all the bullshit, there was no questioning it. For all his bravado and arrogance, when push came to shove, John Rogers was insecure. Especially here. Especially now. All the cases he took on in New York were kidnappings and he done quite well with them. But the one serial killer case he'd worked on had been disastrous. They never caught the killer. It had been his first professional failure. John Rogers was not accustomed to failure. He'd been the captain of the football team in high school and very popular. He made good grades in college and was the student body president. He skated through the FBI Academy with ease. His whole life was the picture of success, until a deranged mad man began raping and killing women in Manhattan. He and his partner had done all they could. They followed dozens of leads to no end. They even had Fox Mulder do a profile for them. Mulder had helped them to get close to the suspect, Ronald Conolly. They'd even guessed at his next victim. They staked the place out but Conolly gave Rogers the slip in a chase. Conolly disappeared without a trace. For the first time, John Rogers didn't get his man. He took that thought to bed with him every night. Now he was working with Mulder and he couldn't stand it. In some way, he blamed Mulder for the failure with Conolly, simply because it was easier than blaming himself. Reilly had stopped and turned around. She was staring at him. Her black eyes were boring a hole straight through him. "You coming, Rogers or are you thinking of going back and hiding out at the firing range?" He barged up the sidewalk right up to her. Towering over her smaller frame, he leaned over until he was just inches from her face. "You listen to me Reilly, John Rogers doesn't hide from anything and don't you ever insinuate such a thing. This is going to be a tough case and I need you to work with me and not against me, is that clear Agent Reilly." She pushed him away, startled at his sudden outburst. "Christ Rogers, get a grip. Let's go, we've got work to do." XxX 12:30 p.m. Dana Scully Residence The hot spray of the shower mingling with the scent of soap slowly relaxed Scully. She let the water pound on her back where her muscles had wrenched themselves into knots. She picked up her loufa and scrubbed her back in an effort to scrub them away. She and Mulder had finished their report around noon and he'd sent her home, admonishing her to get some sleep. She gave in, knowing they had a stakeout that night. So she'd come home intent on sleeping, but decided a shower might help get her in sleep mode. God knows she hadn't slept at all the last three nights. The dreams were becoming more vivid. She could see the man attacking her. His hair fell in his eyes as he tried to wrap his vice-like hands around her throat. But in the last dream she was able to get away. She saw Mulder and she ran away from her assailant. There was a loud pop and she woke up. She felt so tired after each dream but she'd be too shaken up to go back to sleep. She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off. Opening her medicine chest, she pulled out two Tylenol PM and swallowed them. She was going to make sure she slept this afternoon. Clad only in her underwear, she padded into her bedroom and shrieked. Mulder was sitting on the edge of her bed. He jumped up and ran to her. "Christ Scully, it's just me." "I...I know. I'm sorry, you startled me. I'm just..." "Jumpy." She nodded her head. "Lie down Scully, you need to relax." She complied, she was so tired and having hardly eaten the Tylenol was kicking in faster than expected. She heard Mulder toe off his shoes and toss them into the corner. The bed dipped next to her and she felt his knees against her side. "Any objections to backrub, Agent Scully." "Mmm...sounds delightful," she murmured. She barely heard him chuckle. Her eyes slipped shut as she felt his strong hands knead the supple flesh of her lower back. She let out a low moan as she felt the kinks unfold. Mulder was very good at this. She added one more thing to list of things she loved about this man. She tensed a little at the thought. She'd been pushing him away, because she was afraid. She realized it wasn't Mulder she was afraid of. Perhaps in the twisted events of the case they were following her keen sense of morality had been offended. Not just by the case, but by her affair with Mulder as well. She had idly thought the killer's motive had something to do with the idea that sex was wrong. It went against Bureau policy for she and Mulder to be together. It would be dangerous for them both if their enemies found out about it and not to mention the niggling Catholic in her that believed sex was to be between two married people. Scully dimly wondered if her fear of the monster they were chasing dredged up all those thoughts too. Had that been why she'd pulled away from Mulder? Certainly, it was stupid. She viewed Mulder as her one source of comfort and she was pushing him away. So what if the Bureau didn't condone fraternization. Screw them. What she did on her own time was her business. If she'd learned anything from her experience with cancer, it was not to sweat small stuff like that. As for their enemies FUCK THEM. And as for being married, pardon me Sister Mary Margaret O'Callahan, she loved this man more than anything and that was enough for her. Her muscles felt liquid. Yes, Mulder was indeed wonderful at this. She sighed heavily and rolled over, catching him off guard. "Come here, Mulder." He gave her a look but laid down next to her. She touched his face and then leaned over and kissed him. "I'm sorry, Mulder." "For what?" "For letting this case get to me, for being neurotic, for not letting you in." He sighed and shook his head. He started to speak but she put a finger over his lips. "Let me finish. Sometimes I worry about us, about what we're doing and I think I let that get blown out of proportion in tandem with the case. It's stupid, I know, but I do that sometimes. I can't tell you it will stop, but I can tell you I always get over it...because I love you and I CAN'T get over you. Just please understand, sometimes I need you to be here but just do what you just did...let me work through it." He nodded and pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. "I love you, Scully." "Mulder, I just took a couple of Tylenol PM and I think I'm going to be completely out of it very shortly. Can I just hold you? I need to feel safe and I feel safe with you." "Of course." "And do me another favor Mulder. Get some rest. Not only do we have a stakeout tonight, but before we go on that I have every intention of having my way with you," she chuckled wickedly at her own joke. Mulder laughed with her, "Whatever you say, Scully." XxX 2:30 p.m. 14th Street Corridor Johnnie Suggs and his mother rounded the corner. He was helping her carry some groceries home. He looked up and saw the FBI Agents that had questioned him about the woman he'd found. He tensed. His mother looked at him and put her hand on his back. "Don't worry Johnnie. You didn't do anything wrong. I wish those meddlers would just go on. I don't see why they're so concerned with those women. I'd say this killer their searching for is doing this neighborhood a service," she said with a snort. As they got closer to the Agents, Johnnie noted the tall one named Rogers, his mind supplied, saw them coming. He hoped that the man wouldn't see them. Now he knew they'd have to talk to them. Johnnie didn't want to relive the whole thing over again. He did every time he heard another prostitute was killed on the news. He just wished it all would stop. He wished the killing would stop and he wished his mother would stop ranting about it. He was disturbed that his normally quiet mother had gotten so wrapped up in the murders. Every time she heard of a new one, she would talk for hours about poetic justice and how these women were getting just exactly what they deserved. "Johnnie Suggs?" Rogers questioned. Johnnie started to answer the man, but his mother stepped between him and the tall FBI agent. "Leave my son alone. He didn't do anything. I'm just sorry he had to see what he saw. Why don't you all do something useful and get rid of the prostitutes instead of worrying about the man who is doing us all a service by getting rid of them," she spat. Rogers flinched, shocked at the woman's response. "Mrs. Suggs, murder is a crime regardless of who it's committed against." "That so? Well where were you when one of those whores killed my husband, huh? You law enforcement types never caught her, just swept it under the rug. Yet you two have been here for two days trying to track the person who killed some of them. What's wrong with you people?" She grabbed Johnnie's arm tightly and walked away from them. As they rounded the next corner, Johnnie heard the tall agent ask his partner, "What do you make of that Reilly?" XxX 2:40 p.m. Tin Cup Diner, 14th Street Reilly and Rogers entered the diner. It smelled smoky and the floors looked like they hadn't been mopped since the Nixon administration. Reilly dimly wondered how many health code violations were being broken. Sliding into a booth across from her partner, she also wondered if she should apologize for their earlier argument. Rogers ordered an iced tea and looked to her. She looked up at the waitress, "I'll just have water, thanks." Rogers stared out the window. She wondered what was going on in his head. She'd never seen him get angry until this morning. It occurred to her, he was just wound up about trying to solve the case. She knew he and Mullins had been working on it since early November. hey hadn't had a break and then Skinner had called Mulder in. Rogers had told her that Mullins had been highly pissed. Apparently there was some bad blood between Mullins and Mulder, but Rogers never said what. Reilly sensed the case must be terribly frustrating for him. She'd heard about Rogers successes in New York, but she'd also heard about his one failure. A woman she'd gone to the Academy with had worked in the same section as Rogers. She'd talked with her friend after the blow up she'd had with Rogers about Scully. Her friend told Reilly how hard Rogers had taken his failure on the case. She said that he'd put in for the transfer to DC because he was embarrassed. "Hey, Rogers," she said softly. He looked up at her from the window. "Yeah." "Sorry about this morning. I guess I kinda lost it." He chuckled. "S'okay Reilly. I've been a real jerk, it's the one thing I'm truly good at." "Don't say that Rogers. A friend of mine from the Academy was in your section in New York. She told me you're an excellent investigator." "Who?" "Janet Cannon." "Oh." He looked down and began to nervously play with his napkin. Janet said she knew Rogers well. Janet said they talked a lot and had become friends. At first Reilly had wondered how anyone could be friends with such an arrogant person. But Janet had explained his bravado was just a front. Deep down, John Rogers was a nice guy. "What else did she tell you about me?" "She said you were a good agent who took his mistakes way too seriously." He looked Reilly in the eye and gave her a weak smile. "She told you about the Humboldt case." Reilly nodded. "Yeah, I took it pretty hard. I guess that's why I'm so freaked about this case. I just don't want to fail again. I don't deal with failure well. Did she tell you Mulder worked on that case too?" "No." "Mulder lead us to the killer. We would have had him except I lost him in a chase. Some great agent I am." Reilly sighed. "Rogers we're all human, we all mess up now and again. I've made some bad moves in my time as well. I didn't want to leave Portland." He glanced up at her again. She looked away. She was surprised she was actually admitting this to him. "I trusted one of the senior agents too much. I let him do me a couple of favors, thinking he was just being nice. Then he wanted me to sleep with him if I ever wanted to get promoted." Rogers eyes widened, "Christ Reilly, what did you do? Surely you filed a complaint against the guy." "Yep. They censured him and promoted me...away from Portland. He got off with a slap on the wrists." He shook his head, "I'm sorry Reilly, had I known..." "Don't worry about it." She reached across the table and touched his arm. "Rogers we will solve this case. I'm not sure how, but I know we will." XxX 12:01 a.m. Alleyway off 14th St. Mulder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He watched a row of women, talking to men who stopped in cars. No one seemed to be taking tonight. He dimly wondered what made a man crave the attention of a woman like that. That was just it. It wasn't attention, it was just sex. Pure release, nothing else. They might as well just masturbate. He glanced at the seat next to him. Glasses perched on her nose, studying a file, he was acutely aware he didn't need such a release. He had it all. He watched as she pushed a few stray strands of flame hair behind her ear. He brushed the ones on the side closest to him before she could get to them. She smiled at him. "What?" she asked softly. "Just appreciating your finer attributes, Scully." "Such as?" "Oh, you know, everything," he sighed, "just the fact you're alive and with me, that's all." She laughed. "Thanks Mulder. I'll remember this the next time you're feeling superior," she said poking him in the ribs. "I was serious Scully," he said in mock indignation. "You were?" she said sarcastically. Then she slid a hand up his thigh. He gasped and gave her a warning look. "I love all your attributes too, Mulder." Her hand came very close to his crotch, then she quickly pulled it away and looked out the window. "That wasn't nice, Scully." "I know." "I'm glad." She whipped her head around, staring bemusedly at him. "You're back," he said with a smile. She squeezed his knee and returned her gaze outside. "Who the hell are we looking for Mulder? Surely this guy is bright enough to spot this stupid car." Mulder choked back a laugh. She DID know how conspicuous these things were. "Well Scully, you have a better idea?" She nodded, still facing the window. "I think Erin and I should go undercover." "WHAT?" "Don't get your boxers in a bundle. You and Rogers could pose as vagrants to be close. I think Erin and I can handle it. Besides, posing as prostitutes we stand a better chance of getting the guy." "Scully, we don't even have a suspect yet. How do you plan to break things off with all the men you get who aren't the right one?" "You think I'd be that successful, Mulder?" she said smiling wickedly at him. "Scully, you're head and shoulders above any of those women, as is Reilly. You two couldn't look like hookers if you tried." "Is that a challenge?" "Scully." He glared at her. He couldn't believe they were even having this discussion. She honestly wanted to go undercover as a hooker. Not that thought of her in fishnet stockings didn't appeal to his more lurid fantasies, but he wasn't about to let her or Reilly take a risk like that. "I will not let you do this, just put the idea out of your head." A scream outside stopped their argument. Both agents flew out of the car, Mulder barely remembered to lock it. Scully was a few paces ahead of him and disappeared behind a corner. The screams kept coming. Mulder's heart leapt to his throat. He rounded the corner and found Scully standing over the body of a woman, another woman cowering behind her. He approached the woman behind Scully. "Are you all right?" "Annie's dead," she sobbed. "Please, try to calm down. We're here to help. Did you see anything?" "No...she just picked up a trick ten minutes ago. I came back here lookin' for her because of...Oh God," she burst into tears. Mulder looked over to Scully. He choked down his urge to vomit at the sight before him. The woman referred to as Annie lie before his partner. It looked as though her abdomen had been scooped away, intestines spilled out of her body. He was surprised there wasn't as much blood, given the severity of the mutilations. All of the woman's genitalia had been cut away. Scully was holding her cell phone. He heard her ask for the PD. His head began to swim and he turned away from the body. He dimly thought of their earlier argument. He was absolutely certain now. There was no way in hell he was going to risk Scully winding up like the bloody mess before him. He coughed and forced himself to look at Scully. Scully put her cell phone away and approached the other woman. She showed her her ID. "I'm with the FBI. I know this is really traumatic for you right now, but do you think you'd be able to describe the man Annie had just made a transaction with?" "Look lady, I don't want to get in trouble..." "I assure you, we just want to catch this killer. We'll do everything we can to protect you. Do you remember his face?" "I'll not soon forget it." XxX 2:45 a.m. Interrogation Room A FBI Headquarters Scully stared at the composite drawing the artist had made from Jane McRae's description. She was so cold. The man in the picture looked exactly like the man in Scully's dreams. Jane had left with her card and instructions to call if she saw the man again. Jane had told them most of the women had stopped even working that part of town because of the killer. The ones who remained were desperate for money and had been forced out of other parts of town. Jane and her friend still worked that part of town, fear of pimps in other areas kept them in the 14th Street territory. Jane had been recently released from prison. She had gotten involved with the wrong man and had been convicted on drug trafficking charges. When she got out she had no real job skills and couldn't get work other than at a fast food place. She couldn't pay her bills on that salary. So she turned tricks to make ends meet and support her cocaine habit. Scully returned her gaze to the picture in her hand. The wild eyes stared back at her. The eyes that terrorized her in her nightmares. She jumped when Mulder came in. "You OK, Scully?" "Yeah...I just need some sleep." "I called Reilly and Rogers. After we all get a little shut eye, we're going to stakeout a couple of locations tomorrow night." "OK," she said nodding. "Scully?" She looked up at him. "Do you now understand why I don't want you playing madame?" "Dammit Mulder, don't start. I'm a grown woman and an FBI Agent, I'm trained to go undercover. It's one of the risks of the job..." "Scully, I wouldn't even put myself at that kind of risk." She scoffed at him. "Liar." "I'm serious. When I run off and do something I usually don't expect to get into the kind of trouble I get into." He smiled sheepishly at her. "We both know what kind of danger this guy poses. Besides, if he's as smart as I think he is, he wouldn't touch you or Reilly with a ten foot poll." "And just why is that Mulder?" she said angrily. "Because you and Reilly lack a quality he looks for. Unless there's something you aren't telling me you're seldom high. And I know for a fact you don't have any track marks. Have you noticed that all of our killer's victims have that in common." She nodded. He was right, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "OK, Mulder you win...but only on a technicality." XxX Jan. 4 8:45 a.m. Suggs Residence Molly Suggs sipped her coffee as she read her paper. She rocked back and forth in the old avocado green easy chair that was made out of a material similar to leather. Her son, Johnnie, sat in front of her on the floor watching television. She sighed, wondering what their life would be like if Johnnie's father had lived. Roland Suggs was a hard worker and a good man. He worked as a truck driver for a local furniture company. He'd been on a delivery when it happened. It was early in the morning and his first run of the day. A prostitute, in need of a fix came down the alley where Roland was checking off an inventory. She asked him to give her some money. When he refused, she pulled a knife and stabbed him seven times in the chest. The man who delivered the furniture with Roland heard his cries for help but got outside well after the woman fled. His partner called for help and Roland told the man what happened while waiting for the ambulance. But help arrived too late. Roland Suggs died on the dirty streets of Southeast DC, leaving Molly to support herself and her child on her meager salary as a receptionist. Molly turned the page of the paper and read that another prostitute had been brutally murdered early that morning. A wicked smile parted her lips. She was pleased her plan was working. She had only been working at Star Pharmaceutical for a year, but she'd learned a lot in that time. She wasn't bashful about asking questions and trying to learn as much about the place she worked as she could. At first, she had designs on going back to school and perhaps becoming a pharmacist. Her boss had even offered to pay her tuition. But she didn't want to leave Johnnie alone at nights until he was a lot older. Then she met two men who'd changed her life. Dr. Chambers, the handsome young doctor, came in often to talk with the researchers at the company. They were doing some sort of study on acid reflux, whatever that was. She shared idle chit chat with him while he waited for his appointments. As time went on, they both discovered they had a lot of common interests and even occasionally went to lunch together. Molly shared lots of things with Dr. Chambers, including how she came to be a widow. When she told him that a prostitute had killed her husband, he had gotten angry. He railed about how they were a blight on society and that they spread disease and promoted infidelity. Dr. Chambers was a deeply religious man and he had no tolerance for such decadence. He shared with her his interest in the man called Jack the Ripper, who murdered prostitutes in the 1800's. He had told her about a fiction novel he'd read that had Jack the Ripper as a religious zealot, killing the women in the name of his faith. She'd been fascinated by the things he told her about the Ripper, even giving her friend a keychain inscribed with one of the Ripper's nicknames. A few months ago, Dr. Chambers started suffering from migraines. He was miserable. She mentioned it to one of the researchers at work and he told her that they were working on an experimental medication that would greatly help migraine sufferers. He said it wouldn't be available for a couple of years because they still had tests to do on it. There was some concern that the drug would have serious psychological side effects, especially if the user had an alcoholic beverage within 24 hours of taking the pill. Another man had been listening to their conversation. She'd never gotten his name, she just remembered he always smelled like cigarettes. He approached them and suggested they might use Chambers as a test subject. Molly agreed to talk to Chambers about it. Chambers jumped at the chance. Then Molly had overheard two of the researchers talking one night before she left work. There was some research to suggest that one of the experimental migraine drug's ingredients could cause the user to act irrationally, even violently. After they left, she poured through their notes. The problematic component of the drug could cause behavioral changes all on its own. But at alcohol and you had a volatile mix. Molly thought it was a long shot, but she knew Dr. Chambers liked to have a drink now and again. Their relationship had progressed to the point they occasionally went out for drinks. She didn't tell Chambers about what the drug could do to him. The implications were staggering, but she knew exactly what would happen. Chambers violent feelings against prostitutes would manifest themselves in violent behavior against prostitutes. She was right. He was acting out against the prostitutes they both hated and no one would ever suspect her or Dr. Chambers of doing such a thing. Chambers didn't even know she was the cause for his behavior. She wasn't even sure he knew what he was doing. She overheard the researchers say that the component could cause lapses in memory. The best part for her was, Chambers frequently had to check in with the researchers but they could detect nothing wrong with him and he obviously didn't know. It was her secret. She'd found the perfect crime, she thought. But really, what was the crime? She was making the streets a cleaner, safer place. She was a trifle concerned about the FBI Agents poking around. But so far, they seemed clueless. The FBI spokesperson was quoted in the paper as saying the police had stepped up patrols in the area and the FBI was following up on some good leads. Molly translated that to mean they were frustrated and didn't have much to go on. She set the paper down and looked at her son. "Come on, Johnnie. We need to get ready to go to church." XxX 8:56 a.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully twisted in his grasp, but he was just too strong. He worked a hand free, still managing to keep her pinned against wall behind her. To her horror she watched as he pulled a long knife from his coat. She struggled further but couldn't get free. Her attempts to cry for help were cut off by the pressure her attacker placed on her windpipe. Then she was suddenly watching the scene from outside the body that was being attacked. She looked at the face of the woman. She was short, about Scully's height, she had auburn hair a shade darker than Scully's and her eyes were hazel. Her clothes were what shocked Scully. She wore a flowered skirt, the type you wore a petticoat underneath, her mind supplied. She wore a strange, tall black hat with a black coat, the collar and cuffs were ringed with something that looked almost like fur. Glancing at her feet, she noticed a strange pair of boots, old and ragged. One of the boots' laces had been replaced with thread. It slowly dawned on Scully she was witnessing one of the real Ripper's attacks. She shifted her eyes in horror to the man wielding the knife. He wore a long, black wool coat and a bowler type hat. The pockets of the coat bulged. The top of a black leather book could be seen poking out of the top of the pocket. A bushy mustache framed his mouth. She couldn't see his eyes under the brim of his hat. He wasn't overly tall, he seemed only 5 or 6 inches taller than his victim. But he was stocky in build. Scully could see how the coat stretched tight over his arms suggesting a well toned body. Scully winced as the man drew the knife across his victims throat much like he was cutting through warm butter. She noted the woman was already dead from suffocation so no blood spurted. The Ripper slid the body down to the pavement. His long knife made quick work of the bloody mutilations he performed. He cut her from her sternum all the way to the juncture of her thighs. He methodically pulled out her intestines and removed a kidney, placing it in a jar he extracted from his coat. He then pulled out a flask and covered the organ with the liquid from the flask. He then moved to begin cutting up her face. Scully bolted up in her bed, breathing heavily. The last image from her dream remaining in the shadows of her conscience. Mulder lie next to her, oblivious to her terror. She remembered how he'd partially solved the John Lee Roche case in his dreams. So what was my dream trying to tell me? She quietly slipped out of the bed and went into her living room. The research file sat on the corner of her coffee table. She picked it up and turned over the pages until she came to the description of one of the Ripper's victims, a Catharine Eddowes. The description of the woman perfectly described the woman she'd seen in her dream. She then looked at the composite drawing of their suspect. He didn't look like the man she'd seen in the latest dream, but she had seen that face in her other dreams. She shook her head. She mentally ticked off the things the dream told her that she already knew. The killer used a long knife. He liked to take a souvenir piece of viscera. He strangled the victims before mutilating them to keep blood from spurting. Nothing new came to mind. She scrubbed her face with her hands in frustration. She walked over to her window and pushed the curtains aside. The sun made her squint, she sighed. Another lazy Sunday, she thought idly. Her niggling Catholic reminded her she hadn't been to mass in months. Bible? The word stuck out in her mind for some reason. She moved to her bookshelf on the opposite wall and pulled the book off the shelf. She ran her fingers over its leather cover, tracing her name embossed in gold on the bottom right corner. "Dana Katherine Scully." An image from her dream crept unbidden into her mind. The book in the killer's pocket, a Bible? Her brow furrowed in concentration. It didn't add up. Why would a killer carry a Bible? XxX 9:01 a.m. Erin Reilly Residence Reilly woke groggily. She silently cursed Mulder for feeling the need to wake her in the middle of the night. Sure it was about the case, but there was nothing further they could have done last night. Scully had already performed the autopsy and questioned the witness. Tonight they'd try to question some of the women working the area. That hadn't been too successful in the past, but maybe now they were more willing to talk. After Mulder's call, she'd found it difficult to get to sleep. She decided she'd watch a movie to put her to sleep. When she flipped on the television she immediately turned it to the Classic Movie channel. The old movies always made her relax. Especially, if Cary Grant happened to be in the feature. But no such luck last night. They were showing an Alfred Hitchcock film, called "The Lodger, a Story of the London Fog". She started to turn the channel until she realized it was a fictional story based on the Ripper. The film was based on the myth that the Ripper stayed with an elderly couple during the day while committing murders at night. The fictional Lodger was a religious zealot who quoted the Bible and deeply resented prostitutes. Reilly had been fascinated by the film but it hadn't helped her to sleep. She had really gotten to involved in this case, but at least she wasn't having nightmares. She sighed heavily thinking of Scully. She had looked so haggard the last few days. Reilly saw the potential for the same thing to happen in herself. Reilly admired Scully's intensity and dedication, probably because they were traits she possessed as well. Despite their slow progress, Reilly was pleased with the way the case was going. With Mulder and Scully leading the way, that had come a long way with very little. Certainly the witness last night was their first real break in the case. Now they had a suspect description to add to their profile. Scully had sent the composite drawing of the suspect to the local media outlets. Reilly imagined they'd get tons of calls once it was published on Monday. They hadn't got the drawing done on time to make the papers for today, but she imagined the television stations would start showing it on their evening news. She sighed, she'd probably miss it tonight. They were all going to be questioning the 14th Street hookers tonight. Some weekend. No wonder I don't have a life. She got out of bed and slipped into her terry cloth robe. She padded into her kitchen and started up her coffee pot. She idly worried about Rogers. He so desperately wanted to solve this case. He was chafing under Mulder and Scully's scrutiny and he felt chastised because they weren't getting to much of the work. He kept grumbling about only getting to interrogate witnesses who saw or knew nothing. She sighed and allowed herself to be lulled by the gurgle of the coffee perking through the filter until three loud raps on her door startled her. "Who is it?" she called moving slowly towards the door. "It's me, Reilly...Rogers." Reilly pulled the door open and gasped. Her partner was barely standing. His eye was black and several small cuts dotted the lower part of his eye. His hair was still wet, as though he'd just recently showered. His clothes were clean too. Despite his clothes together appearance the cuts and bruises told the real story as he staggered into her apartment. "Good Lord, Rogers! What happened?" "After Mulder called last night, I couldn't get back to sleep. I went back out and tried to find some of the hookers, ask them a few questions. I mean, Jesus Reilly this is the twelfth murder, this is totally out of hand. I thought maybe I'd get something we hadn't before. When Mullins and I questioned some of them, we didn't get much. Hookers don't tend to trust cops, duh. "Anyway, I headed down an alleyway and came across this weird guy. He had on this long coat and he was crouched on the ground, like he was looking for something. I guess I startled him and he was high or drunk or something because he came straight at me. He started yelling something about sinners repenting. My first thought was he was a homeless guy, but his clothes weren't cheap and he had this odd accent. Before I knew what happened he sucker punched me, then he hit me square in the eye and then I hit my head on the brick wall behind me and blacked out. When I came too, he was long gone." "Rogers are you out of your mind! What in God's name were you thinking going into that area without back up? Have you forgotten you have a partner?" "Reilly, I didn't want to wake you...and...well hell I don't know what I was thinking. I was thinking I wanted a break in this case. I just don't want this guy to get away," he brushed a hand through his hair accidentally hitting one of the scratches. It started to bleed. "Rogers! You opened up your cut. She ran into her bathroom and came back out with so alcohol and cotton swabs. "I'm no doctor, but I'd say you could use some stitches." "I'm fine Reilly," he said wincing as she swabbed the cut with alcohol. "OW! That stings." "Don't be such a baby," she chided. She pulled a butterfly bandage from the box of Band-Aids she had with her, delicately placing it over the cut. She absent mindedly pushed a lock of hair out of his face before thinking about the intimacy of the gesture. She pulled away abruptly. Since their heart-to-heart in the coffee shop yesterday, Reilly had seen her partner in a whole new light. Despite his gruff exterior, he was really a nice man. He had a tendency to get too caught up in his work and when something got in the way of that he'd plow right through it. She had already noticed he viewed Mulder and Scully as obstacles that he couldn't plow through and that frustrated him to no end. Yet he seemed to get along well with her. He might not like all of her ideas, but he was at least listening now. She was shocked he'd shown up here. It suddenly dawned on her she was sitting with her partner in nothing but her short nightie and a ratty robe. She blushed. Even after getting the hell beat out of him, Rogers still looked good. He had on a plaid button down shirt and a pair of jeans. His boots seemed a little scuffed from his foray last night, but other than that he looked perfect. The thought that her partner was attractive suddenly popped into her head. She stuffed the thought down as deep as it would go. She stood up, "Rogers you want some coffee?" "Sure, thanks." He said eyeing her quizzically. "So was your night as exciting as mine, Reilly?" "No. I just watched an old Hitchcock movie...about the Ripper no less," she said chuckling. "Oh? Any revelations from said cinematic masterpiece?" She came out of the kitchen carrying two mugs. She placed his in front of him and sat back down, a little further away from him than she'd been. "No, not really. It was just interesting. I like old movies. I happened on that channel looking for a Cary Grant movie," she said laughing. "Cary Grant? You like Cary Grant movies? Don't they offend your feminist side, Reilly?" If he hadn't been injured she would have slugged him. "No. Movies are just fantasy, Rogers. Call me shallow, but I just like his movies because he was a good looking man. I guess that makes me a closet sexist, huh?" "Yeah, Reilly I seem to remember you chastising me about making assumptions based on looks." She nodded sheepishly. There was an old-fashioned girl lurking in the tough FBI agent persona of Erin Reilly. There was a part of her she seldom let see the light of day that liked it when someone noticed her looks and that noticed the looks of attractive men. She shrugged, "I'm only human, Rogers." The jangling of the phone startled them both. Reilly reached around to the phone on the end table next to her. "Hello." "Agent Reilly, it's Agent Scully." "Hello, Scully." "Why don't you meet Agent Mulder and I at my apartment around 6 tonight. We'll have something to eat and discuss what approach we're going to take this evening." "OK, sounds fine by me." "Good. Do you know where Agent Rogers is, I can't get him at home or on his cell phone." "He's here." "You two getting an early start?" "Well, maybe Rogers is," she said with a laugh. "I'll tell him the plan." XxX 9:30 a.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully hung up the phone, a million thoughts running through her head. Were Reilly and Rogers involved? Partners getting involved with partners happened all the time, she and Mulder were living proof of that. But Erin Reilly hardly seemed the type to do something so.... She turned around and started toward the bedroom, when her own partner stepped through bedroom's door. Her thoughts of the two young agents flew from her head at the sight before her. She couldn't help it, she just had to laugh. Mulder stopped and stared at her trying to guess what had so amused her. Scully wished she knew where her camera was. He was standing there, hair in every direction wearing a pair of boxer shorts she'd never seen before. They were navy silk, but covering the fly was the image of Marvin the Martian, hands on his hips. A talking balloon next to his head exclaimed "It blocks my view of Venus." Tears streamed down her face as she laughed harder than she had in years. Mulder looked down at his crotch as if suddenly realizing what was so funny. He jerked his head back up, his lopsided grin spreading across his face. "I'm glad to see these are such a hit, Scully. I'll have to wear them more often." He crossed the room to her and pulled her into his arms. "I got them for you. I thought you'd like 'em." "Mulder, those are priceless," she said lightly touching the fly. "Watch it!" She laughed again. "But he's so cute Mulder, I just have to touch him." Mulder growled and slanted his mouth across hers. As she succumbed to his kiss a frightening thought entered her mind. Did Reilly and Rogers suspect she and Mulder were involved? And if they did, was that what gave them the idea to get involved? She wondered if she should ask Reilly what was going on. But only until she felt Mulder's hand creep under the hem of her nightshirt. XxX 10:00 a.m. Location Unknown A black mood hung over Sullivan Chambers' head like a shroud. He sat in his wingback chair listening to the rhythmic ticking of the clock, his hand wrapped possessively around a bottle of Jack Daniels. He took a healthy slug from the bottle, emptying it and tossed it on the floor. He stared at the other object in his hand, a glass jar containing a kidney. Tick. Tick. Tick. The sound exploded in his head. Another migraine was coming on. Damn it, Jack. What have you done to me? He realized he was asking the question out of his own denial. He knew. Sullivan knew. Sullivan was Jack and Jack was Sullivan. He didn't know how or why it happened, but somewhere along the line he'd chosen to live out his fantasy of purging the streets of whores. The vile women had even kept him from church this morning, darkening his mood further. But his evening occupation had kept him out late. He knew he'd taken a real risk going back to the alleys he killed in, but he desperately wanted to find the keychain he lost. The keys he had replaced, but the chain was a much cherished gift and he'd foolishly thought he could find it. Then he'd run into that man. He dimly wondered how badly he'd hurt him. He reached over to the coffee table and picked up his worn, leather Bible. He'd had the book since his childhood. He'd taken it with him to preach to the street walkers about the error of their ways. But that was the time when he was merely a gentle, religious man called Sullivan. Now, he was the wrath of God called Jack. Tick. Tick. Tick. Bile rose in his throat and he staggered to his bathroom. He tore open the medicine cabinet and grabbed his bottle of pills. He swallowed the last four dry. He turned on the water and splashed his face. The pain in his head was growing in intensity. He looked up to the mirror and saw Jack again. The bomb had finally gone off. He knew Sullivan no longer existed, it was only Jack. He roughly pulled off his shirt, staring at the blood stained cuffs, and tossed the garment to the floor. He bent to take his pants off and stood back up too quickly. The combination of his growing headache and the alcohol caused him to stumble. He narrowly averted disaster by catching himself on the sink. "Got ta' put this body ta' bed for awhile. I abused it far too long last evenin'." He slowly moved into his bedroom and slumped to the bed. Black dots spun in front of his eyes. He gently laid his throbbing head on the pillow. Rest. He needed to rest. He had so much work to do, so much work to do. XxX 6:00 p.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully made one last check of her apartment to make sure all signs of Mulder were gone or carefully hidden. He'd gotten in the habit of keeping certain things at her place and Scully wanted to make damn sure their two charges didn't see that. So far, no one suspected their involvement. They'd always been so close that the change in their relationship had been imperceptible to the rest of the world. She hadn't even told her mother. She was still a little freaked about finding Rogers at Reilly's apartment so early this morning. She chastised herself, how many times had Mulder shown up at her apartment that early to discuss a case. He was undoubtedly there to talk about the case. She rationalized that she was she just projecting her situation with Mulder onto them. In the end, she had to laugh. A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. She walked to the door and opened it. "Hey Reilly, you're lucky guest number one," she said gesturing for the young agent to come in. "I'm afraid I don't have door prize, however." Reilly laughed. "I have a disease with punctuality. I wouldn't know how to be fashionably late if I tried." Scully nodded. "I hope you got plenty of sleep, this promises to be a long night." Reilly smiled, "I took a long nap this afternoon to make up for the sleep I didn't get last night. I was a little too wired after Mulder called. I wound up watching some Alfred Hitchcock film about the Ripper. I can't even get away from my work in my free time." "Welcome to my world, Reilly." She hesitated a beat and then decided she had to know what Rogers had been doing there that morning. "I guess it didn't help you're partner decided to pay you an early visit, huh?" "What? Oh, yeah. I could have throttled him...not because he came over, I mean...Do you know what that nutball did last night?" Scully shook her head and waited for Reilly to continue. "He went out to the corridor after Mulder called. He wanted to see if he could drum up something on his own. All he succeeded in doing was getting jumped. When he showed up at my place this morning he was a mess. His eye is the loveliest shade of purple." Scully chuckled. "It's like looking in a mirror from 5 years ago," she said with a sigh. "What do you mean, Scully?" "Rogers. He's Mulder Jr.," she laughed. "Let me guess. He never even bothered to call you and let you know about this little misadventure." Reilly nodded. "I hope you blessed him out about it, not that it will do you any good, but it at least makes you feel better." "Mulder used to ditch you?" "What do you mean USED to?" she said with a wide smile. "But you two work so well together. I mean, I know Mulder can probably be *interesting* to work with, but he seems to respect you so much. I couldn't imagine him doing something so impetuous." The last remark caused Scully to laugh out loud. Reilly had no idea what dealing with the whirlwind called Mulder was like. "Agent Reilly, there is no other partner I'd rather have than Agent Mulder. But believe me, impetuous is his middle name. I can't tell you the number of times I've doctored wounds or bailed him out of his latest disaster. Sometimes I feel like I'm babysitting my godson, instead of working with a grown man." She stopped short, was she revealing too much? She suddenly felt cold. If Mulder's respect for her was so obvious, what about their love for one another? Did it show on their faces in much the same way? Maybe they'd only been successful in hiding their feelings for one another because no one really ever saw them together, except for Skinner. When Skinner saw them, it was always in his office and they were interacting with him and not each other. Reilly interrupted her train of thought. "Yeah, I've noticed how you scold him," she said laughing. "But you two still make a great team. I admire that. I just hope Rogers and I can form a bond like that. I mean, as much as he can be a royal pain in the neck, he's a good agent and I like working with him." Scully relaxed a little. She wondered again at that. She knew Reilly and Rogers were young, but they also had a reputation for being very good investigators. What was Skinner thinking? The only thing these two needed was a little more time in the field and they could practically run the VCS themselves. Were Reilly and Rogers sent to spy on them, to see if they were having an affair. A light bulb went on in her head. She remembered a conversation she had with Skinner regarding all the consults they'd done for the VCS. "You and Mulder can get back to the X-Files as soon as we get VCS back on track," Skinner had told her. The Violent Crimes Section had been ravaged by a glut of employee turnover the last few months, to the point the most senior agent in the division was Mullins. Skinner didn't trust Mullins for some reason, Scully didn't know why, and she imagined bringing Mulder in on so many consults was an attempt to rattle him. Maybe Skinner had hoped he'd leave. But when Mullins died, that left the unit with no senior agents and a bitch of a media hogging serial killer case to handle. Skinner was trying to kill two birds with one stone, she surmised. Train two agents he could trust by using the two he most trusted, giving all four a new level of credibility. Why he would want to do that, she could only guess. Maybe the old goat likes us after all. Nah. Finally laying her paranoia to rest, she gestured for Reilly to sit down. "I wonder where everyone is," Scully wondered aloud. "Rogers is terminally late. Is that another trait he shares with Mulder?" Scully nodded just as someone began to pound at the door. "Hey Scully, open up! It's Steven Speilberg." "Speak of the devil," Scully groaned. XxX 6:01 p.m. Near 14th St. It's amazing how good a little sleep and a shower can make you feel. After taking all those pills, Jack was feeling no pain. He maneuvered his car through the streets of DC heading for Sullie's friend Molly's house. He was fresh out of pills and needed some more. He knew he couldn't simply renew the prescription so he'd have to go to the source. He kept reminding himself he'd need to slip back into Sullie's persona to get the woman to go along with him. He didn't imagine it would be a problem, although he felt funny. All of the pills he had taken, along with the alcohol, made Sullie vanish. Jack kind of missed arguing with his alter ego. At least he looked the part. He was wearing a neatly pressed pair of khaki pants and a navy blue sweater. Decidedly not the way Jack would dress. Jack was a boots and jeans personality. But Jack's mode of dress fit his favorite pastime. As wild as Jack was, he was fastidious in his own way. He meticulously preserved his trophies in vodka and kept them stored in Sullie's basement. He had an inherent need to be reminded of his conquests. So Jack kept his trophies all neatly rowed on the shelves, just like Sullie's prized book collection. He pulled up outside Molly's building. He twisted the rear view mirror around to give himself the once over. He ran a comb through his hair and pocketed it. He got out of his white Cadillac and made his way to Molly Suggs door. Jack idly thought Molly was about to get a real surprise. XxX 6:15 p.m. Dana Scully Residence "So you actually watched the whole thing?" Mulder asked Reilly. "Yeah, I didn't have any brilliant insights, but it was a good movie. God, where the hell is Rogers?" A knock at the door promised to answer her question. Scully got up and answered it. Mulder noted her surprised expression at Roger's bruised countenance. "Christ Rogers!" she gasped. "Yeah, I tangled with someone a little bigger than me," he joked. Mulder stood up and crossed the room. He eyed the young agent carefully. He had to fight back a chuckle. Maybe Rogers was all right after all. He obviously shared Mulder's intense desire to get to the bottom of things. Mulder knew the young agent still beat himself up over letting the suspect in New York get away, much the way Mulder beat himself over all the things that had happened to Scully. He sighed. "That's some shiner, Rogers." Mulder said clapping him on the shoulder. "Shoulda taken your partner with ya'. I personally make mine carry Demerol around with her." Scully shot him a dirty look. "Mulder, you run off on your own all the time and then call me on that infernal cell phone of yours to bring you Demerol." He merely grinned. "You get a good look at the guy, Rogers." "It was dark and then he knocked me out cold. The guy was drunk, but he still managed to keelhaul me. He was really strong." Scully motioned for them all to sit down. They'd already ordered Chinese food. Reilly had taken a wild guess at what Rogers would want. "We ordered take out, Rogers," she told him, "I ordered you Kung Pao chicken. I hope you like that." "Sounds great Reilly, if I could get an iced tea that'd be bliss." Mulder choked on his own tea. Scully laughed and gave him a knowing look. He just glared at her. Reilly and Rogers just gave them both a bemused look. "I just made some tea, Rogers." Mulder replied. "Had to bring it myself, though. Scully only drinks root beer or those sissy diet drinks." He sighed. It really bothered him how much Reilly and Rogers were like he and Scully. It was like watching himself in a time warp. "Take a look at this Rogers," Reilly said handing him the composite of the suspect. "This is the composite drawing of the man who killed the last prostitute." Rogers took the drawing from his partner. He turned it over and then dropped it as if it had burned him. "Oh my God! It's him. It's him." "Who Rogers?" Mulder asked. "The guy who jumped me last night. That's him." XxX 6:20 p.m. Suggs Residence "Hello there. Is your mother home?" Johnnie Suggs stared up at the man in the doorway. He'd never seen him before. But he was dressed nicely, a little too nicely for their neighborhood. He idly wondered if this man was another FBI agent. "Who can I say is here to see her?" Johnnie asked. "Tell her it's Dr. Chambers." "Wait here, please." Johnnie ran into the kitchen where his mother was making dinner. She was stirring spaghetti sauce and singing quietly to herself. "Momma?" "Yes, sweetie." "There's a Dr. Chambers here to see you." Molly Suggs smiled. She ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed her skirt. "Thank you, dear." Johnnie walked down the hall to his room. He heard his mother talking lightly with the gentleman down the hall. His mother seemed to like the man a lot. Johnnie felt a niggle of jealousy. After his father died, he'd been the man of the house. Besides, something about Dr. Chambers unnerved him, but he didn't know what. His mother suddenly appeared in his doorway, she seemed distracted. "Johnnie, honey, I've got to run an errand with Dr. Chambers. I may be gone a bit, I have to get him his medicine. He has to work tonight, so he needs it. I've called Aunt Mary to come over. She'll be here shortly. Don't open the door to anyone but her, OK. She's going to order a pizza and pick it up on the way." "What about the spaghetti you promised me?" "Honey, I'm sorry. We'll have it tomorrow night." She quickly turned and left. Johnnie sulked. He loved his mom's spaghetti. He really didn't like Dr. Chambers now. Not only did he take his mom away, he was keeping him from his favorite meal. He stomped down the hall to the living room and switched on the television. "In our news tonight, the FBI wants your help tracking down this man. He's wanted in connection with the murders of 11 women in the Northwest area. If you have any information regarding this man, please call..." Johnnie stared at the image on the television in horror. He couldn't believe his eyes. He had just let his mother leave the house with the man on the television. The man the TV lady said killed all those women. He slumped to the floor and felt the hot tears stream down his face. "Momma!" XxX 6:40 p.m. Dana Scully Residence "Have these composites been posted near the crime scenes?" Rogers asked. "Yeah, I faxed one over to the PD and they were going to have patrol officers post them today," Scully said. "What do you think he was doing in the alley by himself, Rogers?" "Like I said, I think he was looking for something." "His keys perhaps." Reilly chimed in. Rogers whipped his head around to face his partner. "Damn, Reilly. I'd forgotten all about that!" "If I remember correctly, you thought it was a 'wild goose chase'," she replied dryly. Mulder got up to go to the kitchen nudging Scully to join him. She gave him a quizzical look but followed. "Here Scully, I'll help you clean up," he said theatrically. But Rogers and Reilly were oblivious to their departure. "Reilly, I wasn't questioning your investigative techniques. I just thought the keychain was a long shot." "You didn't even bother to show up at the meeting Rogers and then you went running off without me last night and almost got yourself killed," she grumbled her voice rising. "Oh and why don't you throw in that I lost the suspect too, Reilly?" "Get a grip, Rogers. No one is accusing you of anything, You didn't know what he looked like. But you were a damn fool for getting yourself into that mess in the first place." "Well, I wanted to find a substantial lead..." Scully was putting dishes in the dishwasher, Mulder hovering a few inches behind her. Mulder watched, fascinated, as the two younger agents began to have a knock down, drag out fight as if their superiors weren't even within earshot of them, let alone the same room. He shook his head. His mind wandered back to all the fights he and Scully had. There had been some doozies. Not to mention the one last night. For some reason, this particular fight reminded him of the one he and Scully had at the Icy Cape. He dimly figured it was because that was the first time Scully had really raised her voice with him. "Remind you of anyone?" Scully said rising from the dishwasher. "It's like looking in a freakin' mirror." "Are we really that bad?" They both looked at each other and nodded. Then they both laughed. It started out as a mere chortle. Then it graduated to a chuckle. Finally, they were both supporting one another they were laughing so hard. They stopped abruptly when they realized the argument had stopped. Whipping their heads around they saw the two younger agents staring at them both completely confused. "What?" Reilly and Rogers asked in unison. The look on Rogers face caused Mulder to lose it again. "Oh nothing, you two. Now play nice or we'll have to separate you." "Mulder." Scully shot him a warning glance. "Sorry," Reilly supplied weakly. "We seem to have gotten the argument part of our partnership down pat." "I understand," Mulder said dryly. "Scully and I fight all the time. She's always wrong of course." He ducked a dish towel thrown in his direction. "The important thing to remember, no matter how much you argue, is that you always remain loyal to one another and that you trust each other implicitly. That's how Scully and I work as a team. I know I make her crazy sometimes," he shot his partner a look, his tone was suddenly mischevious. "She can be pretty maddening herself. But when push comes to shove, I know she's always there to back me up and that I can trust her with anything. If you want your partnership to work, you've got to build that kind of trust. That trust starts with listening to one another, no matter how ridiculous you may think the other's ideas are." Mulder was cut short by the chirping of Rogers' cell phone. He pulled the offending device out. "Rogers. WHAT? Yes, ma'am I know where you are. We're on our way." He pushed clear and stared at his co workers. "Our suspect just took Johnnie Suggs' mother on an errand." Reilly's mouth fell open. "WHAT?" "Who is Johnnie Suggs?" Scully asked. "The kid who found the New Year's Eve victim." XxX 7:02 p.m. North West DC Star Pharmaceuticals Jack followed Molly Suggs into her office. He noticed she seemed nervous, after all she was supposed to let the researchers give him the medication. But Jack's Sullivan had convinced her how much he needed the medicine and she seemed eager to comply. He suddenly knew why Sullivan had liked this woman, so eager to please. He ushered her through the door to the lab. She milled around a bit and then found what they were looking for. She pulled out a handful of pills and placed them in a plastic tube for him. "Molly, you are such a dear for doing this for me," he took the vile from her. "Do you think you could put a few more in there? I don't want to have to trouble you all for awhile." She complied. "I don't know what I'd do without this medicine, Molly. It's really changed my life and the lives of those around me. I'm a new man Molly. Sullivan Chambers is a new man." A wicked smile parted Molly's lips. "I know you are Dr. Chambers and you're doing us all such a service." He was startled by her remark. "What do you mean Molly?" "Dr. Chambers, I know who you are. I know what you do and you're doing the city a favor. The fact that I help you in this little way makes me so very proud." Jack ruminated on this. Molly knew. How could she know? "What exactly is it you think I'm doing Molly?" he said, his tone even. "You killed all those prostitutes, Sullivan," she said softly, "I hoped you would. I gather the medicine helps you do it." His face went pale. Sullivan's persona began to rise through Jack's at the use of his given name. "You gave me this medicine knowing what it would do to me?" "Sullivan I only gave you the drugs because I knew it would give you the strength to do what you wanted to do. I admit, I wanted you to do it too." Bile crept into his throat. He sadly realized she was right. He worshipped the Ripper for what he'd done. He supposed his persona had been buried in his psyche from the day he picked up a book on the Ripper. He hid behind the mask of a compassionate, religious doctor for society's sake. But a monster was behind the mask all the same. Sullivan Chambers was two people, he just hid the one he thought no one would accept. But Molly Suggs accepted him. She accepted him because she was a monster underneath as well. He could only guess at the demons that made her who she was. He assumed it had something to do with her husband's death. His demon was a prostitute he went to in college, before he found God. Sullivan was too shy to ask a girl out, but he had money. So he decided to buy a girl to satisfy his urges. Violent urges Sullivan later learned to contain. So he paid for the services of a girl for one night. He wanted to have rough sex with her. At first she went along with him, but then it all went wrong. The woman got scared and cut him with a knife. She had some kind of luck. She cut him so badly across his penis he was rendered impotent at the tender age of 20. He was depressed for a long time, so he immersed himself in his studies, deciding to be a doctor. He later found comfort in religion, to which he dedicated himself with the same determination. But even his dogged determination left him empty, leaving him to shove the violent urges back with less and less force each day. "Are you angry with me Sullivan?" Molly asked. Suddenly Jack was back. The images of his past brought with them rage. And with the rage came Jack. "Why would I be angry wi' you my dear? You've done me the greatest of favors. I just hope ya' realize you'll forever be my accomplice." XxX 7:30 p.m. Suggs Residence Scully and Reilly sat with Johnnie Suggs. The boy simply held the composite drawing of the man he said his mother left with and wept. Rogers talked with the boy's aunt, who was also visibly upset. "Do you have any idea where they might have gone?" Rogers asked. "No, I'm not even sure who the man is or who she knows him. I'm completely baffled as to why she would go off and leave Johnnie like this." Johnnie slammed the paper down on the table and ran to his room, his aunt followed him. Scully and Reilly exchanged glances. Scully rose and followed after Johnnie's aunt. She approached his room and saw the boy's aunt consoling him. "It's OK, Johnnie. You need to tell these people what you know so they can find your mom." Scully walked in and the aunt eyed her suspiciously. "Johnnie, we just want to help you find your mom. Do you know something that might help us find her?" "She'll get in trouble!" he cried. "Why, Johnnie?" Scully asked. "Because she knows what Dr. Chambers is doing, she gave him the medicine so he could." Scully arched an eyebrow. "What does he need the medicine to do, Johnnie?" "He needs it so he can get rid of those evil women. She talks about it all the time. How he's cleaning up the streets. I never saw him before tonight but she always talked about what a good man Dr. Chambers was but how much better his medicine made him." "And your mom gave him his medicine?" "Yeah, she get's it at work." Scully shot Johnnie's aunt a look. She looked horrified at what Johnnie had said. "She works at Star Pharmaceuticals, just across town. But she's just the receptionist there. I never thought she had access to any of the drugs." Scully got the address of the pharmaceutical company and called Mulder. His number was busy. He'd gone back to the office to get the keys Reilly had found. He had decided to get them so they could ask anyone matching the description of the suspect if they'd lost a set of keys. Mulder decided he needed to get them so he would know if the suspect described the keys correctly. She walked down the hallway fishing for her own keys in her pocket. "Hey Rogers, why don't you hang out here until Mulder gets here. I just tried to call him but his cell's busy. I'm going to take Reilly and the car and go to this pharmaceutical place in case they're still there. Call for back up," she said pointedly and she and Reilly vanished through the door. XxX 7:40 p.m. Mulder dialed Scully's cell phone number but it was busy. Frustrated, he dialed Rogers number. The phone rang several times before he answered. "Rogers." "It's Mulder. Who the hell is Scully talking to?" "I wouldn't know, she left a few minutes ago. Are you on your way here? I was just about to call you." "Yeah, what's going on?" Rogers explained what Scully had told him about Johnnie's mother knowing the suspect and the possible drug involvement. "So they went over to the pharmaceutical company to see if they could catch him." "They?" "Yeah, she took Reilly. I know Johnnie, it makes sense I stay here in case his mom comes back. Kid makes it sound like she's friendly with this Chambers guy. I don't think he kidnapped her, Mulder. She's helping him." "So the Ripper has an accomplice? A woman. Weird. You'd think as big a misogynist as this guy is he wouldn't accept help from a female." "Mulder, this case gets weirder by the minute. Hurry up and get here. I don't want to run into this guy alone again." XxX 7:42 p.m. Melvin Frohike Residence Melvin Frohike stared blankly at the television screen. He idly thought Mulder's video collection wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He had hoped for more. What he really wanted was an erotic video starring Mulder's partner. "That would be succulent," he mused aloud. The jangling of the phone interrupted his prurient thought. "Yeah." "Hey Frohike, it's Mulder." "Mulder. It's about your video collection...I'm bored." Frohike heard him chuckle. "Sorry it doesn't meet with your expectations. I need to ask you a question. You know anything about Star Pharmaceuticals?" "Never heard of 'em. Why?" "Just wondering. See if they've got a database and hack in and see if they are manufacturing any drugs that might be mind altering and then call me back. I'm on the cell phone." XxX 7:45 p.m. Star Pharmaceuticals Northwest, DC Scully and Reilly looked around the office searching for any clue. The office was devoid of any noise save their frantic searching. Molly and Chambers were gone. Reilly eyed the large oak desk that served as the reception area. She crossed to the desk. A calendar, a picture of her son, pencil holder and other office supplies littered the desk. She opened drawers and rifled through them. Finding nothing she raised her eyes to the small ridge of wood above the desk to see a Post-It note, glaring at her in it's yellow intensity. "Migratol for Dr. Chambers," it exclaimed. Reilly smacked her head. "Scully." This disheveled redhead appeared in the doorway behind the reception desk. She raked her hand through her hair, sighing in frustration. "Got something Reilly?" Reilly handed her the Post-It. Scully's eyebrow shot skyward. "Migratol? I've never heard of it." Her cell phone rang and she answered it. "Scully." "You answering Mulder's phone for him now Agent Scully?" "Frohike?" "The one and only darlin'. Mulder wanted me to get some info for him on Star Pharmaceuticals. Is he too busy to take my call?" "No, he's not even...wait a minute," Scully pulled the phone away from her face. "Christ Frohike, he's got my phone and doesn't even know it. We must of picked up each other's phones by accident. The damn things look exactly alike. "Anyway, I'm interested, what've you got?" "Mulder asked me to see if Star had done any work on a drug that might have any psychotic side effects. I hacked them and came up with one thing. Some experimental drug they're working on for migraines called Migratol. It has questionable side effects which can be enhanced by alcohol consumption, that's why the drug is still experimental. It's not on the market yet." "Frohike, you've been more than helpful. I'll tell Mulder." She hung up and looked at Reilly. "Didn't Rogers say he thought Chambers was drunk last night." "Yeah, he said he thought the guy was high or drunk." "Let's look some more, we're looking for any sort of research data they have on Migratol...and Reilly, do you have my cell phone number handy, I can't remember it." Reilly nodded. "Good, call it and when Agent Mulder answers tell him he has my phone and I have his. Then give him a status report." XxX 8:01 p.m. One block from Molly Suggs Residence Chambers hit the brakes hard seeing the fleet of police vehicles in front of Molly's home. His mind worked furiously, the medication was starting to wear off and he was losing his edge. He pulled the pill vial from his pocket and swallowed four. "Your son," he spat angrily. "You told your SON?" He faced Molly eyes full of fire and venom. Molly backed up against the back of the car, getting as far from him as she could. "I...I...didn't tell him anything." "Liar! Why would your house be crawling with cops if he didn't know something?" "Sullivan! I don't know! How do we know the cops didn't follow you to my house?" "Because no one suspects me. I've been careful. You know I'm brighter than that." Chambers felt the layers of his own tattered personality peeling away. Jack had clawed his way back to the surface again. His eyes narrowed at Molly Suggs. She was worse than the whores, he thought. She betrayed him further. She'd had him do her dirty work and now she was going to make sure she paid the price. "You BITCH! You planned this all...you wanted me to kill all these whores for ya' and then ya' expect me ta' deal with the bobbies, 'eh Molly ol' girl? That what ya' want now?" "Sullivan..." "Stop calling me Sullivan! My name is Jack! And Jackie's going ta' take ya' down with him, ol' girl." XxX 8:01 p.m. Star Pharmaceucticals As her arm moved sideways to grab yet another file, Scully overturned a pencil cup in her path. It crashed to the ground sending pencils and paper clips skittering over the floor. She sighed in frustration and bent to pick them up. Her short legs were forcing her to sit on the precarious edge of the chair. As she leaned forward, the wheels on the chair spun on the slick floor sending Scully face first to the floor. She conked her head on the side of the desk on the way down. "Oh fuck!" Reilly's face suddenly appeared over her head. "You OK, Scully." "I'm fine. God! There's got to be a file here somewhere." She craned her head around and picked up a notebook she must have knocked off with the pencil cup. Her eyes widened when she saw the cover. "Migratol Research: Sullivan J. Chambers Test Subject" Scully leafed through the notebook, pouring over it's contents. The research indicated that the drug had the potential for mind altering side effects but their studies on Chambers showed no evidence of that. >>Perhaps because subject is a doctor and carefully monitors his intake of the drug. Also, Dr. Chambers is not known to drink, alcohol being the leading catalyst for the abnormal behavior associated with the drug.<< But Scully knew otherwise. A drunk Sullivan Chambers attacked Agent Rogers that morning. She went over the charts they'd done on Chambers and they all seemed normal. Either the researchers were clueless or Chambers knew how to skew the results. "Hey Scully, I went through Molly Suggs appointment book, I've got Chambers' address." XxX 8:30 p.m. Location Unknown Why is it so cold? Molly Suggs shuddered. The air hung around her cool and damp like an old wet coat. She wanted to crunch her body up to get warm, but her arms were tied snuggly above her head. It's amazing how hindsight is 20/20. She knew when she began this game she was playing with fire. From the first time she'd discussed Dr. Chambers' obsession with him, she knew there was something just waiting to go off inside him. She'd been drawn to him because he reminded her of her father. He was fiercely protective, but had a dangerous quality about him. Her own father had been prone to violence, and she'd learned which buttons caused the volcano to erupt. Chambers was no different. But now, she realized, she'd pushed the wrong buttons. He was over the edge. She could hear him pacing near her. She strained to see him, but he'd tied the blindfold so tight it almost held her eyes shut. The danger she was in radiated around her. She fought through the fear to formulate a plan. She had to talk him out of this. Jack might want to kill her, but Chambers didn't. She had to figure out a way to get Chambers back. "Sullivan..." "SHUT UP! I told ya', I'm not Sullivan." "Yes, you are," she said weakly. It was impossible to hide the fear in her voice. "No, miss Molly...tha's jus' who ya' wan' me ta' be. Ol' Sullie'd never hurt ya', but Jack, he's another matter." "You don't want to hurt me, Sullivan. I'm the one who helped you Sullivan. I gave you the drugs so you could be strong, you don't want to stop getting your medicine do you Sullivan," she was grasping at straws. "I don't need anyone! Least of all a back stabbin' woman," she felt his breath hot on her face and she flinched. She wondered if he had the knife. The hair on her neck rose. She thought of her son and everything else she'd leave behind on this Earth. She had to turn this situation around. "Sullivan, I only want what you want, why would I do anything to hurt you? I care for you Sullivan. I admire your passion and your bravery. Not just anyone would take on the challenge you did. Think of all the good you've done...with my help." She jumped a bit at his touch as his hands landed on both of her shoulders. "Do you mean that Molly?" He said in Chambers' voice. "Yes, yes I do." Molly heard a crash behind her and Chambers' hands were gone. She heard footfalls on the steps and someone called Chambers' name followed by "FBI!" The noise seemed to be coming from the steps. She heard someone move in front of her. "Are you Molly Suggs?" A woman's voice asked. She nodded and blinked as the blindfold came away from her eyes. She stared into the piercing blue eyes of a short, red-haired woman. "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully. Where is Dr. Sullivan Chambers?" Molly started to shake her head but then Chambers appeared out of the shadows wielding his knife. Molly's eyes went wide and the FBI agent spun on her heel. She almost got her gun up, but Chambers knocked it out of her hand. It fired as it hit the floor. The red-haired woman twisted away from him, but he made a swipe with the knife cutting her shoulder. The door to the stairway burst open and another woman came flying down the stairs, gun drawn. Chambers saw her and bolted through the back door before the other woman could even fire. "Agent Scully, are you all right?" The red-haired woman winced in pain. The other woman pulled out a cell phone and called an ambulance. Molly grew sick when she saw the amount of blood the red-haired woman had lost. She imagined her injury must be quite painful. She shuddered at the thought that it was almost her with that injury. XxX 9:45 p.m. Fairfax Mercy Hospital Reilly stared up at the ceiling. If only she'd been a little quicker. She shifted uncomfortably on the plastic bench outside Scully's room. The doctor's were in with her now. She'd lost a lot of blood and was very weak, but they expected her to recover. She blanched as she remembered the look of horror on Mulder's face when he entered the hospital. She could hear him down the hall grousing at some police officer. He and Scully had been partners for 5 years and they were close. She could see how frightened he was. She knew from some of the things Scully had told her how many near misses the two had had. She could only imagine what this was doing to Mulder. She understood too. What if it had been Rogers? She winced as she thought of how scared she'd been when she saw how banged up he'd gotten. Reilly had never been in a situation like that with her partner in Portland. They'd only worked together a year before she'd been assigned to do forensics work where she worked mostly alone. She'd never had to worry about anyone but herself. Now there was Rogers. She was a trifle uneasy about the feelings his injury had conjured up this morning. They'd gone somewhere beyond concern and that troubled her. She'd admitted to herself she thought he was attractive, but the warm feelings she was now experiencing were unwelcome. She didn't want to find herself in a situation like she'd been in Portland. She looked up and saw her partner coming down the hall. He stopped in front of her, hands on his hips. "You OK, Reilly?" "Yeah...I just wish I'd gotten down those steps a little sooner." "Don't beat yourself up. You both followed procedure and got unlucky. Scully's going to be all right, let's just be thankful for that now," he said taking a seat next to her. She looked at him. He seemed so tired. She fought an impulse to smooth the hair hanging in his eyes away. She shook her head and stared at the wall. God, she wanted this case to be over. It was hard enough when this monster was brutally murdering women, now it was personal. This man was affecting them all, whether mentally or physically he was hurting THEM now and Reilly wanted to make him pay. She saw Mulder's lanky frame pass her field of vision and before she could process the information he'd made a move for the door. Rogers stopped him. "The doctor's are still in there, Mulder." "I don't care, I need to see her." "Mulder, you can't go in there." Mulder tried to shove Rogers away. "Don't tell me what to do, I'm..." Reilly didn't know where she found the strength to move someone that much larger than her, but she supposed it was a protective instinct she never knew she had. She pulled Mulder's much larger frame away from her partner's and slammed him up against the opposite wall. His eyes went wide with shock. Her black eyes narrowed. "Dammit, Mulder!" she hissed. "Get a hold of yourself. I know you're upset, we all are. I know he hurt your partner. He hurt my partner too but dwelling on that isn't going to catch him or solve this case now is it? Scully needs you to help us find Chambers, not fly into a rage." Mulder gripped her shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Reilly." His voice broke, "I just want this to stop happening to her." He seemed so childlike, Reilly thought. The concern she saw in his eyes, it was like the concern one shows for their mother, their child, their wife, their lover. Reilly blinked at the thought. The door to Scully's room opened and her doctor stepped out. He gave Mulder a glare. "She's going to be fine, Mulder. And for no good reason I can think of, she wants to see you." XxX 9:50 p.m. Scully shifted a little and winced, her shoulder complaining. The cut had required 27 stitches and she knew she was going to be sore for some time. She was more nervous about her blood tests. She was scared to death she'd get some sort of infection from Chambers' knife, but the doctor's reassured her she'd be fine. They were running the tests anyway, but they were sure she would be fine. "I'm fine," she told herself aloud. A voice from the door answered her. "Why do you keep telling that lie?" She turned her head to see Mulder standing there. Unshed tears glistening in his eyes. Seeing him like that hurt more than the wound tearing through her shoulder. She'd just recovered from the cancer a few months ago and he'd just recovered from the trauma of almost losing her. She knew this scare was probably more than he could handle. He stood there staring at her, his dreaded worry hanging on him like an ill-fitting suit. "Mulder. Come here." He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand, worrying her fingers between his. "Scully, this has got to stop. I can't allow this to keep happening to you. I..." "Mulder," she said, her tone threatening, "This isn't about you. It's not your fault and it's not your decision. There are risks we take in this job, you know that. There's as much danger to your life as there is to mine. But none of us are promised tomorrow. You could walk out of this hospital and get hit by a truck, just as easily as you could get shot by some madman. The truth is, we don't know what's going to happen next, so we can't dwell on it. I need our work almost as much as I need you, Mulder. It makes me feel alive. And I'd rather be in danger and feel alive than feel safe and have a dull job. That would be the same as being dead as far as I'm concerned." She touched his face and he opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with her finger. "Don't argue with me." He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Have I ever told you how cranky you get when you're bedridden?" Her lips curved upwards in a wicked smile. "Only when I can't play with you." She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. Then it dawned on her Reilly and Rogers were probably outside and she dropped his hand as quickly as she'd picked it up. "Where are the children?" she said with a chuckle. He gave her a toothy smile. "Outside. Reilly just kicked my ass. I'm truly sorry you missed that. You've trained her well Scully." "What did you do to Reilly?" she asked in a threatening tone. "Nothing, I tried to barge in here through Rogers. You know, I think she's as protective of him as I am of you." She swatted him. "Why don't you tell them to come in? We've got a lot to talk about." XxX Jan. 5 7:30 a.m. National Bank Georgetown Chambers opened up the safe deposit box and pulled out a file. Opening it up, he pulled out the small, leatherette folder. He opened it up and was relieved to see it was still valid. "John Sullivan," he read aloud, staring at his picture on the passport. "John, it's time ta' go have some fun in jolly ol' England." Chambers had a busy morning. He'd cleared out his bank account and was now getting his things in order to make his escape. Now that the FBI had Molly, it was only a matter of time before they tracked him down. He was glad he'd gotten a good amount of the medication from her last night. He put his papers in a sturdy leather briefcase along with the contents of his former bank account. He also slipped in the notebook he'd pilfered from Star Pharmaceuticals the previous evening. The notebook that would help him get the drugs he needed in England. He walked out of the room and headed out of the bank. He got into the car. He missed his Cadillac in a way, but he was sure the police would be looking for it. So he sat in his Alpha Romeo Spider, checking his appearance in the rear view mirror. His beard was growing in nicely and he managed to dye his dark brown hair blonde the previous evening. He dimly thought he'd miss all of his things, but he'd only been staying in that house. It belonged to his cousin and he'd merely been paying the mortgage for him. He dropped an envelope in the mail that morning containing a cashier's check for the remainder of the mortgage. Chambers had a windfall of money some years ago when his father passed away, leaving him well over 5 million dollars. He'd shrewdly invested the money and was now worth well over 20 million. That was without the money he made at the clinic he ran. He would miss his clinic too, but Jack had no intention of sticking around and getting arrested. He'd left a voicemail for his assistant that morning telling her he was going to be gone for a few days. By the time he got to England, no one would be able to catch up to him. No one in England knew a Sullivan Chambers. They only knew John Sullivan. XxX 8:00 a.m. Dana Scully Residence Mulder came through the door balancing a bag of bagels and two cups of coffee. He was still a little perturbed the doctors had let Scully leave the hospital the previous evening. But on the other hand, it meant he got to spend a little more private time with her. Rogers and Reilly were following up leads on Chambers. Given their long nights that weekend, Skinner had given Mulder the day off. He'd also admonished him to keep an eye on Scully. The acting director was worried Chambers might try to find her. Mulder couldn't agree more, but he almost felt guilty getting a free day to spend with Scully. Almost. He began rummaging through her cabinets looking for plates and silverware when he came across a breakfast tray. It was a light colored wicker, with strong cane handles. He twisted his mouth up when he saw it. It had never been used, the price tag was still on the bottom. He pulled it out and placed it on the counter. He began moving about the kitchen toasting bagels and pouring orange juice. He found a bud vase in one of the cabinets, filled it with water and placed the rose he'd purchased in it. He located the cream cheese in the fridge and spooned some of it into a small bowl and finding a small butter knife to put next to it. He figured he had the tray he might as well make this look good. He was a little overwhelmed at his sudden domesticity. The most he ever managed at home was a raw bagel and lukewarm coffee. But when it came to Scully, he went all out. He had noticed how hard she'd worked to make her apartment homey. The furniture all matched. There were real logs sitting next to the fireplace and not those Duraflame things. She had nice prints on the walls the tied in with the colors in her decorator rugs. There was a blanket draped over the arm of the sofa during the winter months, and there was always a book on the coffee table. He imagined the coziness of Scully's place was why they chose to spend all of their time together there. The surroundings at his own apartment were so austere it seemed to make them both tense. He imagined that was why they never made love there. At Scully's, Mulder felt more comfortable with them as a couple. They'd almost made the place "their" home. He winced a little at the thought. He'd been having those thoughts a lot lately. He'd grown tired of the sneaking around they had to do. He wanted to be able to hold her hand in public and take her on a real date and not go somewhere on the pretense of doing research about some case. His thoughts went somewhere beyond that too. He knew he didn't want anyone else but Dana Katherine Scully and he was damn sure he wasn't going to stop feeling that way. He'd wanted to tell her to quit the FBI last night. He didn't know how many more close calls he was going to be able to handle. There was just one problem. He knew she wasn't going to quit. She loved her job almost as much as she loved him. It held a meaning for her that so many other things in her life hadn't. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't take that away from her. He put the finishing touches on the breakfast tray. Feeling quite pleased with himself, he turned and started for the bedroom and almost dropped the tray. Scully was leaning against the kitchen's doorway watching him, eyebrow raised. "What have you done with him?" she asked in her best investigator tone. "What?" "My partner. What have you done with him? You've obviously kidnapped him and replaced him with an evil clone. You were pulling it off until you started the whole Mr. Martha Stewart routine." He laughed. "What are you doing out of bed?" He said with mock ferocity. She flashed him a smile. "I woke up when I heard noises. Mulder noises. The more I heard them, the more I wanted your company." He crossed the kitchen to her and kissed her forehead. "Get back in bed so I can give you breakfast. For once, let me do something for you. I promise it won't hurt a bit." XxX 9:00 a.m. FBI Headquarters Reilly stared dumbly at the blue glare of her computer screen. She was doing her best to write up a report of the events of the previous evening. Rogers was busy questioning Molly Suggs. They were both exhausted, neither had slept since the previous day. She fought back a wave of nausea as she finished the paragraph about the contents of the jars they found on the shelves in the basement of Sullivan Chambers home. DC PD were now combing the premises for further evidence and had been sent to both Star and Chamber's practice to make inquiries. The police had found a locked file box at Chambers home. Using the fateful keys from evidence, she was able to get it open. The box contained a diary. She'd only read a few pages but she'd been horrified. From the diary it seemed Chambers was a religious zealot, just like the character she'd watched in the Hitchcock film. She rubbed her eyes, trying to make the screen come back into focus. Times like these made Reilly curse her eyesight. She was slightly myopic and had a depth perception problem. No big deal as long as she had on her glasses or contacts. Or wasn't dead tired. "Agent Reilly, you're dead on your feet. Go home and get some rest, that's an order," a gruff voice said from somewhere just beyond the top of her monitor. She looked up and a flesh colored blob slowly swam into focus. "Director Skinner. I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you, my vision's a bit off at the moment." She heard him chuckle a bit. "The four of you deserve a little rest. I'll find Rogers and send him on his way. You all can get a fresh start tomorrow. Given this guy's MO, were not likely to hear from him until next weekend at the earliest. Meanwhile, the police are redoubling their efforts. We'll call you if we need you." "Thank you sir, but if it's all the same, I'll tell Rogers. He's interviewing the Suggs woman and I'd kind of like to know what she had to say." "Very well, Reilly, but don't hang around too long." She saved her file and headed off towards the interrogation rooms. Since when did Director's of the FBI become compassionate, let alone make personal visits. She sighed. Rounding the corner, she saw Rogers leaving Interrogation Room A. His tie was loose around his neck and his brown hair hung in his eyes. From the looks of his face the interview didn't go well. "Rogers?" "Oh, hey Reilly. That was the most useless 3 hours of my life. She's not saying a word. Not how she knew him, not how she knew about the drug…nothing. We've got enough to hold her on though. I'll let her sit in a holding cell for awhile, see if she changes her tune." "I'm sure Mulder will want a crack at her later. The PD brought over a file box. I found a diary in it. It seems our Dr. Chambers is a religious fanatic." "I guess we better work that into our report, eh Reilly?" She nodded, "But not yet. Skinner just sent us home for some rest. We're on call, but he said we both should get some shuteye." "Was he delusional?" Rogers joked. "No, but then I never look a gift horse in the mouth." "I don't think it's so wise to let the trail go cold, Reilly." "Relax G-man. The PD is asking questions everywhere they need to be. Besides, with the lack of sleep we've endured we're a danger to ourselves and probably the public," she said looking up at him. They rounded a corner and she almost walked into a wall. Rogers caught her arm pulling her back into him just before she did serious damage to her nose. "Definitely a danger to yourself there Reilly, didn't you see the wall?" "No…I have a depth perception problem without my glasses or contacts. My eyes reached four alarm fire about 30 minutes ago so I took the contacts out," she chuckled, "My glasses, of course, are at home." He smiled at her. "I'm taking you home Reilly. I can't be held responsible for letting you loose on DC's streets if you can't even walk correctly." XxX 9:30 a.m. Interrogation Room A Molly Suggs stared at the tabletop before her. Cigarette smoke swirled in the air around her and she coughed. The man in front of her crushed out the smelly Morley and smiled at her. "You did a fine job, Ms. Suggs. I'll see to it you aren't troubled further with this." "What about my son?" "As I told you in the beginning, we'll relocate you. You will be paid for your troubles and in a few weeks your son will be brought to you. We just have to take all the proper precautions. You don't want these people finding you again, do you Ms. Suggs?" "No sir. What about Dr. Chambers?" She winced as the man lit up another cigarette and grinned at her wickedly. "He's relocated himself. But now that he's on a short supply of the drugs you gave him, I'd imagine he'll self-destruct in short order. He is, after all, a loose end we can't afford." Suggs nodded her understanding. She knew at this point it was too late for remorse. Besides, the money they were paying her would keep her from ever living paycheck to paycheck again. What was to feel bad about? The smoker had told her how far gone Chambers mind had been from the outset. This was just a mercy killing after all. The smoker nodded at her. "Someone will be along to collect you shortly and you'll be sent on your way. It was a pleasure doing business with you." He rose and left the room. XxX 9:35 a.m. He lit another cigarette and looked into the eyes of the man dressed as a security guard outside the interrogation room. "See to it the body isn't found for a week or so," he turned and walked a little ways down the hall. He looked back to the man over his shoulder. "Also, have an operative track Chambers in England. That field research should prove to be fascinating. Check that, I'll go myself." The man nodded and the smoker went on his way. He was astonished Mulder and Scully had put so much together so fast. But it didn't matter. He was always prepared for them. He was always prepared for anything. XxX 9:40 a.m. Erin Reilly Residence "We're here Reilly." Rogers looked over at his exhausted partner. He wondered if she'd heard him, she was definitely out of it. She nodded her head slowly and her tousled bangs fell into her eyes. He sucked in a breath, even disheveled his partner was a knockout. And she would knock him out if she knew he was thinking of her like that. He yawned and blinked and he heard her chuckle. "What's so funny?" "Rogers, you're as bad off as I am. Why don't you park the car and catch 40 winks on my sofa, at least until your head clears a bit. I don't think you have any business driving." He knew she was right, but the idea of spending that much downtime near his partner scared the hell out of him. It wasn't that he didn't like her, it was that he didn't know how to handle her or the fact that he felt attracted to her. Talk about trouble. One didn't fraternize with one's partner. He dimly wondered how Mulder and Scully did it. They were so professional towards one another, but they also had this camaraderie that went beyond. Yet they weren't crossing the line. He shook his head. His eyes slipped shut and then he jerked his head up. "C'mon Rogers, you've got to get some sleep. I promise, it's a comfortable couch." XxX 11:00 a.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully propped herself up on her good arm and watched Mulder sleep. After their breakfast in bed, he'd grown weary and fallen asleep. She brushed a lock of hair from his face, noting his knitted brow. He was worrying even in his dreams. She sighed. She had known the plague of his concern for the length of their partnership. It had only grown in its intensity. After her brush with cancer, he had become even more intolerable with it. She'd managed to stave off another "you've got to get out of this game" argument last night, but she wasn't sure for how long. Unconsciously, she rolled over on her side. The cry of pain that escaped her lips cracked the air. Mulder sat up like a shot. She cursed herself for forgetting. She turned to look at what she knew she'd see. His face was twisted in concern. She braced herself for the onslaught, but he merely stared at her. Her heart broke as a single tear slipped down his face. He always has to make it about him, she mused. "Mulder," she touched his face, "You didn't do this. This isn't your fault. You can't always expect to be able to keep me from harm, whether I'm at work or at the grocery store." She kissed him softly on his lips. "Don't make this your fault, because it's not. Sullivan Chambers did this." He pulled her to him and clung tightly to her. "God, Scully I just get so scared." She felt him shiver and she pushed away from him slightly, unbuttoning her nightshirt. She peeled the garment away, revealing the wound it covered. A dark line of stitches ran down the length of her shoulder. "Touch it." She commanded. "I don't want to hurt you." "You'll hurt me more if you don't touch me." He reached his hand out falteringly until his finger reached the jagged wound. She watched him take his bottom lip into his mouth and bite down on it as his finger traced the line. "I didn't break Mulder. Not when he cut me and not when you touch me. I'm not made of glass." His hazel eyes focused on her face and she cradled his head with her hands. "Don't let him force us apart. This case has been hard on us both, and I was just as guilty of pulling back earlier. I know we always said we wouldn't let our relationship interfere with our work, but I'm quickly learning I don't want our work to interfere with the relationship either." She tensed thinking of the last few weeks. The gruesome pictures and the more disturbing murders. At first it was all she could do to fight the nightmares. She remembered fearing anyone's touch let alone a man's. It took all of her willpower to let Mulder in, but she'd been glad she did. In that instance, she'd come back to herself and back to him. She thought perhaps he needed that now, to come back to himself. Mulder carried guilt around like a badge of honor. His self-flagellation knew no boundaries and she knew how much it tormented him. Pained him. So now, as he had taken her pain away, she wanted to do that for him. He was staring at his hand tracing the cut. "Look at me Mulder." His eyes flickered up to hers. "Do you know that I love you?" He nodded. "Do you know how much it hurts when I see you torturing yourself?" His face twisted in confusion. His mouth fell open but no words came out. "That's right Mulder. You twist your guts around worse than any mutilation any serial killer could ever perform. You heap all this blame on yourself for no reason. I've never blamed you for anything that has happened to me, and not just because I love you. Because it isn't your fault. None of it. You've become so self-absorbed you think everything that happens is directly caused by you...it isn't Mulder. You just happen to be around it a lot. "And I have to sit by and watch it. It hurts Mulder, because I feel like I'm not doing enough to let you know that you didn't cause it. To let you know you're the one constant in my life that doesn't cause me pain, except when you cause yourself pain." Tears fell freely down her face. "You've been the bright spot in my life for such a long time now. The love I feel for you eclipses any of the bad shit we've been forced to endure. Why can't you hang on to that, Mulder? Am I not enough to make you that happy?" He choked on a sob, "NO! Don't talk like that. You're my world Scully, you're the one thing I've got left. You will always be everything to me. That's why I get so scared...I can't face losing you. I've lost so much...I'd..." "Mulder, you've got me." She grasped his hand and pulled it over her heart, his thumb resting lazily on her nipple. "You occupy a space here and there isn't room for much else. I can't promise you something won't happen tome, but I can promise you you'll always have my heart. Please let that be enough, it's all I have to give." He kissed her roughly but then gently shifted her down to the mattress. He pushed the flaps of the unbuttoned nightshirt aside, letting his hands roam over her body. He leaned forward and kissed the place above her heart where his hand had just been. He then trailed his lips to the dark skin of her nipple, circling it with his tongue. She gasped. "Yes, Mulder please, touch me." She tangled her fingers in his hair as he sucked at her. She pulled him away and devoured his mouth with hers, then pushed his head towards her injured arm. "Kiss me there, Mulder. Heal me." She watched tears form in his hazel depths as he lowered his mouth to the damaged skin. She felt their warm glide over the rough stitches and arched into him. She felt him slowly move up the gash until he reached a patch of undamaged skin just below her neck. He nipped her lightly there and then licked the skin as if to soothe it further. "Don't wanna hurt you Scully..." "You aren't hurting me." His lips found hers again and she kissed him with more intensity. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue inside. He let her search the dark recesses of her mouth, hoping he'd find some solace there. Yet he still seemed reticent. His hands had stilled at her sides. He seemed content just to kiss her and hover inches above her, but she wanted more. She reached out and took his hand in hers dragging toward her sex. He pulled free and rested his hand on her thigh, slowly drawing it up to the edge of her panties. He slipped a finger underneath the thin cotton fabric, tracing the crease between her leg and torso. "Mulder, please..." He snuck his finger out and pulled at the waistband of the undergarment, pulling it off of her body. He broke the kiss and simply stared at her. "You're so beautiful Scully, I..." and at that inopportune moment, the phone rang. XxX 11:30 a.m. Location Unknown Smoke exited his lips on the word "Good." He watched through his telescope as the last bubbles rose to the surface of the murky waters. Molly Suggs was no longer a problem. He idly wondered how long it would take Mulder to find her. He figured on some level, the bright agent would even figure out what had happened. Molly Suggs and Sullivan Chambers were patsies. Certainly not on the level that Lee Oswald had been, but they were of the same genre. But they had proved important in their own way. The drug obviously needed much work. It was powerful in tandem with alcohol, but they would have to find a way for it to do its job without liquor. He took another long drag on his cigarette. He felt powerful again. He'd faked his death to get out from the thumb of the consortium. Those men had lost their focus and sublimated him to something inconsequential. But now they all believed him dead, he could make his own circle of power. He had succeeded. The fools in the consortium would soon be on their knees in front of him. He'd set up his own string of operatives from his old ties. None of them had ever seen him, nor were they high level enough to know of his "death". They'd come to work for him eagerly, the consortium would never miss them. People like that sometimes just didn't come back from an assignment. It was the way things were. Patsies. He had another patsy to worry with at the moment. His alcoholic serial killer that had fled to London. He pondered how to go about ending the man's life. The truth of the matter was Chambers no longer had a life to live, so he was actually doing him a favor. There were so many ways to kill someone. What would be the flavor of the month? XxX 11:31 a.m. Erin Reilly Residence The last thing Reilly remembered was sitting down on the sofa next to her partner. They'd both come in dog tired and he'd asked her something about her report. They sat on the sofa, intending to hash out what she'd read in the diary and then sleep for awhile. Her eyes blinked open and she realized she was still on the sofa. That was no news event in and of itself. What was troubling was her partner was stretched languidly across her lap, sound asleep. He moved a little and sighed. He seemed so peaceful, not the driven agent he was in his waking moments. A stray piece of hair fell into his eyes. Before she was even aware of what she was doing, she pushed it away and smoothed it back against his forehead. Such an intimate gesture, she shuttered at the thought. She'd made the same gesture the day he'd staggered into her apartment beaten and bloody. She sighed in resignation. She was hopelessly drawn to her partner. As she stared at him, she began to wonder what it would be like to kiss his slightly parted lips. She shook the thought from her head. A wave of guilt washed over her. Was she no different from the man who drove her out of Portland? Did she simply think of this man merely as an object of desire and not as her partner? No. It wasn't like that. The man who drove her from Portland didn't care about her. She knew what she was to him, an object of conquest. There was no mutual respect for her or her work. He just wanted to fuck her. She wasn't feeling that way towards Rogers. Yes, there was an attraction. Rogers was an attractive man. But as she'd gotten to know him, she had grown first to respect him and then to even care about him. She thought not. She slowly started to move, to extricate herself from her partner. She wanted nothing more now than to go to sleep and to let him sleep. She got one leg free and began to move the other. He grumbled a little and she froze. He flopped over on his back and she took her chance quickly pulling her leg out and catching his head with her hands. She gently lowered his head to the sofa. Relieved that she gotten out of the situation. She pulled a blanket off the arm of the sofa and covered him with it. He sighed again and snuggled down further into the cushions. She might care for him, but it had to be from this distance. She resolved herself to that. Then his hand snaked out from under the blanket and grabbed one of her hands. "Thanks, Reilly." XxX 11:35 a.m. TransAtlantic Flt. 101 Chambers lounged in his comfortable first class seat, sipping at a whiskey. He was flipping through the pages in the notebook he'd pilfered from Star. He was learning a lot on this long flight. Anger bubbled under the surface of his skin as he was coming to realize the effects the drug he was taking had on him. He now knew he was intolerably hooked on it. Migratol was highly addictive, especially when taken in combination with alcohol. He understood now how he'd become the monster he had. What was worse was he no longer cared. Two things mattered to Sullivan Chambers MD: taking the drug and killing. He was addicted to blood as much as he craved his next dosage of Migratol. He drained the last of his whiskey and set the small plastic cup on his tray table. He looked out the plane's small window and watch the clouds drift by. Much like him now. He was drifting. Drifting into a darker, murkier place than he'd ever been. He was dimly aware that the monster he'd become had always been lurking inside him. It just needed a catalyst to come out. The catalyst had been a whore he'd visited when he was too young to know better. He'd become so bitter about his condition, but then plunged himself into denial. His religious convictions had only sustained him so long. Then he'd met Molly Suggs. He knew from the moment they met she was attracted to him. He wanted to be attracted to her. But his damaged body no longer allowed him such pleasures. Molly had given him some pleasure though. The drug had taken away the pain of his migraines and her company the pain of his loneliness. Yet it wasn't enough. He couldn't totally, completely be with her. He imagined his rage and frustration at his situation only intensified the effects of the drug and his fascination with Jack the Ripper gave him his outlet. Now he was going to have one of his ultimate fantasies. He'd begin his killing again in England. Just like the real Ripper. He couldn't stop now if he tried. He didn't want to. Killing had become the sexual release he could never achieve again and he was hooked. He now knew he'd kill until he could kill no more and at that point he'd be dead. XxX 11:36 a.m. FBI Headquarters Walter Skinner knew better than to be nice. But for once, he'd felt like giving his agents a break. They had deserved it after all. All four of them had put in so many hours and actually managed to bring in the accomplice. At this point, any news of a capture of any sort was good news. But now the news was anything but good. Molly Suggs, the accomplice, was gone. Long gone. Disappeared without a trace from the interrogation rooms, along with the security guard. Skinner had just learned the man wasn't really a security guard either. Yet another accomplice. He smacked his large hand against his forehead. Had Mulder been here, this wouldn't have happened. Skinner had no idea how he did it, but Mulder would have sensed it. This was bad. There would be bad press. His superiors would be on his ass and he'd have to deal with four very pissed off agents. Their one link to the killer had slipped through their fingers. His hand faltered before the phone. He finally gathered his nerve and picked it up. Several rings later he heard the sound of Mulder's flustered voice. Another niggle of guilt pricked at Skinner as he was afraid he'd woken up Scully too. He had figured Mulder would be on the offensive watching over his partner, but he could imagine Mulder sprawled on Scully's couch, gun in hand finally giving in to his exhaustion. This was a bitch of a case. "Agent Mulder." "Yes, sir." "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not disturbing Agent Scully's sleep...Mulder, Molly Suggs is gone." "WHAT? What do you mean gone?" "She disappeared this morning after Rogers interrogated her. We believe a security guard here in the building was acting as her accomplice." XxX 3:30 p.m. Dana Scully Residence Scully wrapped her hands around the warmth of her mug of tea. She watched Reilly who, for some unknown reason, had become completely engrossed with the fibers of the area rug under the coffee table. Scully wasn't sure she blamed her. Scully wasn't exactly the best company at the moment. Her shoulder was bothering her. Skinner had interrupted her and Mulder at a very delicate moment and then Mulder had insisted she needed a babysitter while he was out looking for Molly Suggs. She'd been livid. But the truth of the matter was, it wasn't Reilly's fault. So why was Reilly sitting there like a child caught shooting spit wads at the teacher. "Reilly. I can tell you where I bought the rug if you're really that interested." Reilly's head shot up, "Huh? Oh, sorry Agent Scully, I'm just a little out of it." Scully smiled. "Yeah. I think we all are. This case is beginning to wear on everyone's nerves. You sure you're OK?" Reilly nodded and got up and moved to the window. "I know you're upset with Agent Mulder about having me here to watch out for you, but I don't think he's trying to be disrespectful of your abilities. He just wants to keep you safe. You two are both such good agents individually, but together...I've never seen anything like it. I think he recognizes that, Scully. I think deep down, you do too." Scully sighed. Reilly was right. As much as she hated to admit it, everyone needed to be looked after now and again. It just wasn't in Scully's nature to reach out for help. Ever since she was a kid her father had forced her to fend for herself. Self-reliance was a virtue with Ahab. You only asked for help when you absolutely needed it. And Scully learned by example. Her father never needed help, so neither did she. "Yes Reilly, you're right. But that doesn't keep it from frustrating the hell out of me," she said with mock ferocity and then chuckled. "And I suppose that's what makes us a good team. Mulder keeps me...challenged and that's what keeps me going. I think I drive him crazy too. So I guess our combined insanity cancels out into brilliance." She was genuinely laughing now. Reilly turned from the window and fixed Scully with her dark brown eyes. She chuckled a little. They were both punchy. Scully was doped up and Reilly was dead tired. Scully laughed even harder. If this Chambers guy did show up, they were going to be hard pressed to keep him at bay. Even though she knew that should scare her, it just seemed silly. "Agent Scully. Do you find Agent Mulder attractive?" Scully sobered instantly. She felt a lump rise in her throat. Maybe Reilly did suspect she and Mulder's involvement. Was Reilly attracted to Mulder? Her head swam with the possibilities. "Um...why do you ask?" "It's just that your working relationship with Mulder is so good. I mean, I've been watching the two of you together the last couple of weeks. I mean the communication between you two is nearly telepathic. But the truth remains, you're both attractive people does that ever get in the way of your work?" Scully fought to keep her breathing even. She regarded Reilly seriously and then told her the truth, "No. It doesn't. When Mulder and I are at work, we're at work. I don't think much beyond that." Relieved at her honest, albeit circumspect, answer she relaxed a little. "You mean you don't even notice? Can I speak off the record?" Scully blanched, remembering how she'd dared to say that very same thing to a superior once. No doubt about it, she and Reilly were cut from the same cloth. She just wondered where the hell her raven haired charge was going with this. "Agent Reilly, you may always speak frankly with me." "I want you to know, I mean nothing unprofessional by this, but Mulder is a very attractive man. I notice it every time I'm in the room with him and I don't even work with him. Doesn't it get to you?" She chuckled. "Yes, Reilly I concur, Mulder is a head turner. But work is work and we both just want to get the job done. The only thing I think about on the job is the job. I'm fairly certain Agent Mulder is the same way." "Oh." Reilly said sitting back on the sofa. Scully noted she seemed sad all of a sudden. Scully got up and crossed the room to her and sat down next to her. She felt like an idiot. It suddenly dawned on her what was going on. This little talk wasn't about her and Mulder. "Reilly," Scully said touching her arm. "It's OK to notice, it's just not OK to let it interfere. We're only human after all." Reilly looked up. Scully swore she saw a glint of hope in the young agent's eyes. She wondered if she should tell Reilly about Mulder but then she realized it wasn't her call. If Reilly had feelings for Rogers she had to deal with them and come to her own conclusions. She couldn't influence her decision, no matter how tempting it might be. This was one of those situations where self-reliance was the only thing that held the answer. XxX 3:30 p.m. Molly Suggs' Residence Mulder kicked a stone on the sidewalk. This case was a metaphor for his life. Just when things were getting good, they turned to shit. Neither Johnnie Suggs or his aunt had heard from Molly Suggs. No one at the Bureau saw the man she left with. Of course they didn't. She was with a security guard so nothing looked out of the ordinary. "Fuck." He uttered aloud. Mulder had the distinct feeling someone was monkeying around with him. He'd gotten that itch frequently in his time working with the X-Files. Usually when he got that itch, he scratched up the Cancer Man. But that bastard was dead. Or was he? Mulder scratched his head, remembering how his body was never found. Without a body there wasn't anything concrete to point to his death. Evidence was something they were in short supply of at the moment. Rogers had gotten nothing out of Suggs that morning. The PD found a locked file box that Reilly had discovered a diary in. The diary didn't reveal much. The PD had also found Chambers place of employment but no Chambers. The receptionist at his practice had told the investigating officer Chambers had taken an unexpected leave of absence. All they'd managed to find out from the pharmaceutical company was that an anonymous benefactor was paying for the research into Migratol and for all intents and purposes Chambers had been reacting well to his treatments. They had no idea his behavior had turned violent. They did notice that a large quantity of the medication was missing that morning. Mulder stared down the alley. It was an alley much like the one's they'd found Chamber's victims in. In the shadows a man stepped out into the alleyway. The sun's glare kept Mulder from seeing much other than his silhouette. He seemed to just be staring out. Mulder moved into the alley and the man turned and began walking quickly in the opposite direction. "Hey!" Mulder ran down the alley after the man, but he quickly disappeared around the corner. Mulder reached the corner and turned. His head collided with a lowered fire escape ladder and he fell backward onto the pavement. "You should look before you leap, Agent Mulder." Stars flashed in front of his eyes as the acrid smell of cigarette smoke stung his nose. Mulder blinked a few times and then looked up. He thought the blow to his head was causing him to hallucinate. But the longer he stared, the more real his horror became. "So, you're not dead," Mulder deadpanned. "I suppose it's fitting, it wasn't any fun...you being dead and no funeral. I wanted so much to dance on your grave." The smoker chuckled. "I'm so glad you missed me Mulder. But I am back. I suppose for a time I was dead, and actually it was rather nice. I got so much accomplished without the burdens of my former life. "So tell me Mulder. What interest do you have in a woman who is a receptionist for a low brow pharmaceutical company. It seems some how beneath you." "Some how I think you know what's going on. If I don't miss my guess, you're orchestrating this whole farce, aren't you?" "You give me far too much credit Mulder. I merely set things in motion and then I let them find their own way to the end. Although, I must say I did lead Molly Suggs to her end. Pity. Left her child behind, but I suppose he's better off with his aunt. At least she's not a vicious sociopath." "Sounds like the pot's calling the kettle black..." "Now, now Mulder. Let's not resort to name calling. Suggs isn't important to you anymore anyway. She didn't make the cut, so to speak. It's Chambers you need. But you've let him get so far away. I imagine he's quite happy now, completely immersed in his fantasy land. How many more will die before you find him, Mulder? He almost got Agent Scully and now he's slipped through your fingers," he took a long drag from his cigarette, "You must be on fire with anger." Mulder rose to his feet and shoved the man against the brick wall behind him. "You listen to me you pathetic bastard, none of those women deserved to die. Who are you to decide that, huh? Do you think you're God? Are you that deranged?" "Everything dies, Mr. Mulder it's all just a question of when isn't it? It seems to me you're the one with the power to decide who lives or dies now. The quicker you find Chambers the more lives you save." Mulder felt a pin prick his back. He jumped away just in time to feel his entire body go numb. He sunk to his knees on the pavement. The smoker tossed a butt just over his shoulder and walked away, leaving Mulder in the black that was quickly surrounding him. XxX 11:00 p.m. West End London Chambers turned the hot water off in the shower. The long flight had completely drained him, even Jack was quiet. He toweled himself off, grimacing as he dried his useless sex. "I will make them all pay," he vowed to himself. Slipping into a pair of cotton boxers he padded down the hallway of his flat and entered the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed familiarizing himself with the place. He hadn't been there in ten years. His father had kept the place as a place to escape. It was one of the things Chambers got in the will. He'd decided to keep it, sharing his father's need to escape. He slid back onto the bed and rolled over on his stomach. A small clock was ticking away earnestly on the nightstand. He smiled. It was only a matter of time before he resumed his duties. He just needed to sleep awhile and then it was back to work. He pulled open the nightstand drawer and pulled out the long knife. He fingered he edge, cutting himself. He sucked at the blood it brought forth on his finger, savoring the coppery taste. He sucked on the finger until it stopped bleeding. He lie his head on the pillow and pulled the covers up around him to keep out the draft of the cold London night. He quickly slipped into a deep sleep, where Jack began plotting his next murder. XxX 5:00 p.m. Dana Scully Residence Rogers sat bleary eyed at Dana Scully's kitchen table. Scully and Reilly sat opposite him idly chatting about the case and waiting for Mulder to return. Skinner had sent Mulder to inquire about Suggs given Scully's injury and Reilly and Rogers less than wakeful state. He noted his partner seemed very subdued. She'd barely said three words to him since he'd arrived at Scully's. At first he thought she was just still really tired. Now it seemed she was nervous about something. Nervous around him. She seemed totally lost as she sat across from him, staring at the table top as if it held the solution to their case. Scully excused herself, saying she needed to take a look at her shoulder. Rogers thought it must be weird to be a doctor and treat yourself. The idea of dressing his own wounds repulsed him. But he had learned in the short time he'd been working with Scully, not much seemed to bother her. The silence in the room was deafening after she left. Reilly still seemed content to stare at the table. "I think it's oak, Reilly." Her head jerked up. "Sorry Rogers, I'm just..." "Tired. Yeah, it's been a long couple of days. But you seem more than tired Reilly. You seem like you've got something on your mind." He thought back to that morning. He'd felt her brush the lock of hair away from his face. It was such a soft touch. As tough as she was on the job, she seemed to have this other side. He remembered the look on her face when he'd shown up at her apartment injured. Rogers knew he pissed her off a lot, but some how he'd managed to make her care about him too. He couldn't decide how he felt about that. She was a great partner. No doubt about it. It was rocky there at the beginning, but she had the analytical skills of a seasoned agent. Her finding that seemingly unimportant keychain that held the key to Chambers' diary had been a stroke of pure genius. She had softened towards him too and they seemed to be working well together, until this morning. He didn't know what to do when he woke up and found himself stretched across her lap, so he pretended to still be asleep, waiting to see what she did. She let him lie there a long time and then slowly moved away from him. He hadn't known why he felt it necessary to grab her hand at the end. It was just an instinct. Truth was, he cared about her and there was a whole range of feelings there he was scared to death of. You weren't supposed to be attracted to your partner, but he was. What was even more frightening was she seemed to feel that way too. He was without a clue as to what he should do about it, but the fact that she was suddenly distancing herself from him bothered him more than anything else. "I guess I'm just preoccupied about the case, Rogers." "Listen, if you feel weird about this morning...Jesus, I'm sorry, we were both so tired...I don't know Reilly, I didn't mean..." Suddenly the door to Scully's apartment flew open. A very bruised, very dirty, very wild-eyed Mulder stormed in. He looked at Rogers and Reilly, seemingly trying to focus on them. Rogers had never seen him look so crazed. "Mulder, my God what happened?" Reilly gasped. "Where's Scully?" Scully suddenly appeared from her bedroom. Her jaw dropped. "MULDER!" She paused a beat and then Rogers saw the old unflappable Scully re-enter her body. "Sit down on the couch, Mulder. I'll go get the alcohol and ibuprofen." Rogers held back a laugh. His injuries were so routine to Scully, it just didn't seem real. "So this is why they have you partnered with a doctor, eh Mulder?" He said trying to lighten the mood. "You aren't funny Rogers. Could you two do me a favor?" The two younger agents nodded. He scribbled an address on a piece of paper. "PD are dragging the river near this address. Go check it out, I believe they're going to be pulling Molly Suggs' body out of the water soon." XxX 5:45 p.m. Maine Avenue Seafood Wharf Washington, DC The smoker watched from his window as police milled around the barges. He deduced they'd found something. They'd been dragging the water for hours. He was amazed Mulder figured things out so quickly, but no matter. The ultimate goal had been accomplished. No one would be getting any more information out of Molly Suggs. His attention shifted to a dark blue Crown Victoria pulling up. He smiled, Mulder and Scully no doubt. He imagined they were here to make a positive ID on the body. To his surprise, two dark haired agents exited the car. One was tall like Mulder, but through his infrared glasses he could see this was someone else. He dimly recognized the man as the one who'd been interrogating Molly Suggs. His partner, or so the smoker assumed, was about Scully's size but with closely cropped brown hair. "Who have we here?" He asked no on in particular. The police were pulling a stretcher in the direction of the FBI Agents. The smoker knew they were FBI because of the car and the jackets that announced their affiliation. Oneof the officers pulled back the sheet and he noted the taller agent nodded. He mused about this new wrinkle in the game. Where were Mulder and Scully? Why were they working with these two agents? He made a mental note to ask some of his operatives if they knew of these other people working this case. He took a long drag on his cigarette. XxX 5:45 p.m. Dana Scully Residence Mulder winced as Scully dabbed more alcohol on the small cut on his head. She'd insisted he take a shower and change into the sweats he kept hidden at her house. She had told him he smelt like a sewer, which he supposed was true given he'd regained consciousness next to a very pungent dumpster. Scully pushed a little too hard and he grabbed her wrists. "OWW! Scully, watch it. Christ, here stop. I'm supposed to be taking care of you right now." He rose from the couch and began pacing. He heard her sigh heavily from the couch and he stopped. "Mulder, sit down. You're hurt, just relax. You're not going to accomplish anything by getting all wound up like this. Why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?" "Scully, he's alive." "Who?" "The Cancer Man. He's the one who jumped me then he poked me with something that knocked me out. He's behind this whole thing Scully. I don't know how or why, but I'd venture to guess it has to do with that pharmaceutical company." He walked over closer to the sofa and Scully took his hand pulling him down next to her. "I thought he was dead," she said soberly. "He like a fucking cockroach. You can't kill him." "So what? You think he orchestrated this whole thing? Why Mulder? Why would he care if a bunch of prostitutes got killed?" "Why would any of us Scully? That's just it, they're expendable people in his eyes. They aren't the point, nor was Molly Suggs. Star developed that drug and he obviously wanted to experiment with it's effects on people." "Mulder I read the research on that drug and it seemed fairly innocuous. It was developed to control migraines. There was some concern it could alter the patient's behavior but they'd just begun the research on it." "Exactly Scully, and they were pushing all of Chambers buttons seeing just what exactly they could do with it. The drug obviously altered Chambers behavior. I read the interviews the police did with the people Chambers worked with. He was a mild mannered internist who specialized in gastro-intestinal disorders. He was not even in the ballpark of homicidal-maniac." "But why Mulder? Why turn him into a homicidal-maniac? What would be the gain?" "Why do he and his ilk do anything? There's a greater reason, we may never know what. I'd say the bottom line is he's trying to find new and unique ways to control people's behavior." He paused noticing the shirt she was wearing was bloodstained at the shoulder. "Scully, you're bleeding." She glanced down but before she could move, Mulder worked two of her buttons free to reveal the scar. She'd popped a stitch. "Dammit Scully, I knew you were trying to do too much..." She jumped away from him. "MULDER JUST SHUT UP! Shit, it's just a stupid stitch OK? I can fix this quite easily myself. This is nothing life threatening. PLEASE stop treating me like some fragile China doll, all right." She stormed into her bedroom and he heard her moving about in the bathroom. He swore under his breath. He just didn't get it with her. He just wanted to look at the wound, to help her the way she was always helping him when he got bumps and bruises. He sighed and stood up. She was going to let him help her and she was going to learn that it wouldn't kill her to rely on someone else. HE might get killed in the process, but he had to try. He stormed into the bathroom and found her replacing the stitch with her medical kit. She winced a little as she threaded the material through her skin. Mulder forced himself to watch even though it made him queasy. "I just wanted to help, Scully," he said softly. "I don't need any, thank you." "Yeah, I know. You're fine. You're always fucking fine. Well dammit, I'm NOT!" He shouted. "Would it kill you just to let me in once in awhile? Huh, Scully? You expect me not to worry about you when you won't give me one fucking clue as to what's going on? You think it's enough if once a blue moon you let me hold you. Well it's not, I need more than that. You know it makes me crazy when something hurts you because it indirectly hurts me too. I seem to remember you saying much the same about me this morning. I have to just sit there and watch you go through it like some helpless invalid. Well I can't do that Scully. I want to be there for you. I want you to need me as much as I need you." He broke into tears and slid down the door. He was so tired, so very tired. God, they'd dealt with so much in the last few months. Scully's cancer, his sister's refusal to speak with him, Scully's sterility, Emily's death and then this fucking ball breaker of a case. There was just so much pain and he wanted it all to go away. He just wanted it all to go away. He sat there sobbing like a child until he felt her warm hands resting on his shoulders. She was sitting on his lap. His eyes blinked open and she'd fixed him with that intense stare of hers. "Mulder you're always there for me simply by being in the room. I know I need to be more demonstrative but you've known me for five years. By now I think you know I'm only capable of so much. As for needing you, Mulder NEVER doubt that. I can't imagine my life without you." She began to cry and he traced the tears with his fingertips and then gripped her shoulders. He leaned in and kissed her softly. He pushed her back slightly and framed her face in his hands. She ran her hands up and down his chest in a soothing motion and relaxed slightly. He just wanted this case to be over. He wanted to be away from their two trainees and away from Mr. "I think I'm Jack the Ripper". He just wanted to be alone with Scully and just curl up in a ball with her until he stopped hurting. The case had gotten to him. Forget the brutal murders and the frustratingly slow pace, the fact that the black lunged bastard had re-entered the picture threatened to make mincemeat out of his innards. He held the smoker to blame for taking Samantha from him and ultimately alienating the two of them. It tore him apart. After all that time, to find his sister only to learn she wanted nothing to do with him. He felt so empty. The only thing that held him together was the tiny woman sitting on his lap. She was his glue. He put his head against hers trying desperately to hold back the tears. "He took Samantha from me, Scully. He's tried to take you from me so many times. I can't let him win this one. He has to pay," he choked out. Scully smoothed his hair with her hands and then cupped his face with them. "Mulder, by letting him get to you like this you're letting him win. He can only take from you what you allow him to. Don't let him take anything. We all have to be strong to get through this one and the more we all pull together the stronger we'll be." "But will it be enough Scully? Will it be enough?" XxX 6:00 p.m. Maine Avenue Seafood Wharf The smell of fish had so permeated Reilly's nose she was certain she was going to become a haddock at any moment. She was combing the waterfront for any sort of clue as to why they'd found Molly Sugg's body there. She was certain they wouldn't find one. This case got weirder by the minute. Rogers was busy talking to the fish mongers, but she guessed he was having as much luck as she was. She walked over closer to some of the abandoned buildings that lined the wharf. This part of town had really decayed she surmised. She hadn't lived in DC long enough to know how long it had been in disrepair but from the looks of it quite some time. She glanced up as she walked along staring at the potpourri of rotting wood and broken glass amongst the nighttime shadows. She noticed one of the shadows behind the broken glass moved. She tossed her head over her shoulder to call to Rogers but he was too far away. "Damn." She drew her weapon and ran into the building. She scanned its interior and then heard the creaking of the boards above her. The steps were to her left and she ran towards them. A voice stopped her. "Don't bother. I'm more than happy to come to you." She pointed her gun in the direction of the voice. "Stay where you are, Federal Agent." "Oh, I know who you are." The voice sounded closer. She whirled around but all she could see was the darkness surrounding her. She felt foolish. She knew she should have waited for Rogers. She winced remembering how she'd chastised him for running off on his own and now here she was doing the same thing. Her fingers tightened around her weapon, but she could feel the tell tale shake of fear causing her arms to quiver. She heard a noise behind her. She felt a sharp prick and she spun and fired. A different darkness surrounded her now as she felt consciousness slipping away from her. Her knees collided with the hard floor and she fell helplessly against it. XxX 6:10 p.m. The smoker was standing over the unconscious woman's body. He ground out his cigarette under his shoe and stooped next to her, rifling through her pockets. In her left pocket, he hit pay dirt. He pulled the small leather wallet out and flipped it open. "Special Agent Erin Reilly." He read aloud. "Charmed to make your acquaintance." He searched through the wallet and her jacket but found nothing further to give him some sort of inclination as to her involvement with the case. She stirred on the ground next to him, slowly coming back to herself. He pulled the small handgun from the waistband of his pants and held it just out of sight. In her groggy state she wouldn't be a match for him, but he wasn't taking any chances. She pulled away from him and searched the ground for her own weapon. "I kicked that in the corner Agent Reilly. I wouldn't want you firing at me again. I just wish to speak with you." "Who are you?" she hissed. "Who I am is unimportant? What is important is this little case you're working on, don't you think? I'm assuming you're working with an Agent Mulder on this, correct?" "Why should I tell you?" "It doesn't matter whether you do or don't tell me. I can find out anything I want. But I would like you to do me a little favor Agent Reilly," he reached over and caught her chin in his hand. She struggled to get away but his grasp and her weakened state made her helpless. "Now, now Agent Reilly. I could hurt you anytime I wanted as well, but I don't want to. It's in your best interest to keep it that way. Now. I want you to deliver a little message to Agent Mulder for me OK? You tell Agent Mulder if he wants to find Sullivan Chambers he won't find him in this country anymore. He's got to go to the original scene of the crime." "REILLY!" The shout came from outside. The smoker rose to his feet and began to walk away. Just before he disappeared into the shadows, he tossed over his shoulder. "Good luck Agent Reilly and beware of suicide jacks." XxX 6:20 p.m. Dana Scully Residence Mulder lie propped against the bathroom door. His breathing was just returning to normal. He hated to fight with Scully, but there was something to be said for making up. She was still sitting in his lap, but with decidedly fewer clothes than when they had started this conversation. Her head was resting against his shoulder. He shifted a little and his back complained. Maybe the bathroom floor wasn't the best place to make love, but it had seemed like such a capital idea at the time. He ran his fingers over the stitches on Scully's exposed shoulder, then bent his head to kiss it. Her eyes fluttered up to his. "I'm OK, Mulder. And no, that doesn't mean I'm fine. I'm really OK." A wicked smile crossed her face. "Actually, at the moment I'm a lot more than fine. Sated is a word that comes to mind." He chuckled. The chirping of his cell phone stopped his next sentence. He groaned. "That'll be Frohike." He rose off the floor and dashed to his coat lying across Scully's couch. He pulled the phone out and answered it just in time. "Mulder." "Catch you at a bad time G-Man." "Spare me Frohike, what have you got?" "I hacked into Star's database again. It seems a company called EMANON has been paying them fairly large sums of money. I cracked a couple of the account codes and your suspicious are correct. Star has been secretly doing research into psychoactive drugs. I can't prove it with what I've got, but from the looks of it EMANON paid for the research. "So what is EMANON you may be asking. Other than being "NO NAME" spelled backward, further inspection of the records revealed a special Federal Tax exemption indicating it's some sort of government agency or contractor." "Let me guess," Mulder interjected, "you can't find any info on EMANON or who's in charge of it." "Correctamundo, my good man." "I'll give you three guess as to who it is." "I've got a good idea, but I thought our Morley smoking friend had passed." "Oh no, Frohike. He refuses to do that." Mulder hung up with Frohike and returned to Scully's bedroom. His sweats lay neatly folded on the bed. He tugged them back on just as Scully emerged from the bathroom wearing her robe. "Getting shy on me Mulder?" "No, I'm just worried the 'children' will return home soon." She laughed. "I know we have to be discreet, but I can tell you at least one of our young charges probably would be happy to learn we're involved." "Huh?" "I had an interesting talk with Reilly this afternoon. I'm pretty sure she's decided she's attracted to Rogers." Mulder let his jaw drop in mock horror. "Poor girl. I see now why she needs glasses. She must only look at Rogers when she's not wearing them." Scully gave him a playful smack. She circled his waist with her arms, "Like I said, it's like looking a mirror. Only this mirror shows me 5 years ago." He smiled. "Did you feel that way even then? Even though I was such a royal pain in the ass?" "Mulder, you're still a royal pain in the ass. But yes, I felt that way even then." XxX 2 days later Just after Midnight East End, London The scarlet liquid slowly seeped out of the woman's body. Jack's cuffs had been saturated with it. He dimly noted he was getting sloppy. Forgetting his latex gloves had been a mistake, but it didn't matter. He knew he wouldn't get caught. He hummed to himself as he sliced through the cartilage at the top of the woman's ear. He'd lost all of his previous souvenirs when he came here. He was certain they were all neatly stored and catalogued in some murky FBI basement office now. But no matter, he was back to work. Two in one night, as a matter of fact. He was quite pleased with himself. He heard the crash of metal on pavement behind him and he froze. He peered into the alley and saw nothing. He quickly finished with the ear and delicately placed it in the jar he had with him. He ran down the alley toward the street and ducked into an alcove he'd discovered earlier. It lead him to another alleyway. He ran down the labyrinth of side streets, working his way through the maze like a lab rat searching for food. XxX East End, London Smoke rolled out of his mouth as he watched Chambers from the catwalk. He was scurrying toward the flat he'd inherited, the smoker guessed. He smiled. This little experiment was turning out to be one of his more entertaining ones. He'd watched over the last few months as Sullivan Chambers had made a transformation. A transformation that took a once gentle doctor and turned him into an animal. The smoker was amazed at the things that could be done with the human mind. He mused that "death" had transformed him. His morality had changed. Before the smoker only subjected himself to evil for a greater purpose. A greater purpose that was never his own. But when he learned that he was disposable, he stopped caring. When he made the decision to fake his death, he also made the decision to seek revenge for the things taken from him. He'd suffered much loss in his life. He could never be a father to his two children or marry the woman he loved. The end result was a tenuous relationship at best with his daughter and her mother. As for his son, he'd never accept the smoker as his father. The smoker couldn't much blame him. The smoker also didn't have a chance at the career he always wanted for himself, that of a writer. He'd tried so many times over the years and all he had to show for his efforts were a drawer full of rejection slips. A sad commentary on a man who had not only witnessed so much of history but also created it. He almost felt sorry for Chambers because on one level he identified with him. Chambers had lost a lot too. He lost his father. He lost his masculinity at a young age. Eventually, he even lost his self-respect. Now all he had left was the insanity that drove him. The smoker identified with that. He surmised insanity was all that was keeping him going some days. But there was a difference between the smoker and Sullivan Chambers. Sullivan Chambers was merely a lab rat. A lab rat who was about to eat his last pellet. Yet another sacrifice to medical science. XxX 12:45 a.m. West End, London Jack entered the apartment. He didn't have the usual high he had after offing a couple of whores. For some reason, Chambers damnable conscious was following him around tonight. And Chambers was melancholy. "Buck up, Sullie ol' boy. We had fun tonight. Don't be such a woman. You enjoy this bloodsport, why else would ya' be taggin' along wi' me? Why did ya' read about me so much and study to become me if ya' didn't want this life?" Chambers pulled the knife from the coat his body wore. His mind wore the mask of two men and Chambers wanted to cut the other away. He pointed the knife at his chest, holding it in two shaking hands. He was already in so much pain. He was aware how he'd ruined his life. He no longer wanted to live with who he'd become. He wrestled with Jack's strong will for the keyto his own death. But as always, Jack won out. "Sullie, put down that bloody knife. Wha'the hell is wrong wit' ya'. Go on, now. Let's take some of our medicine shall we?" He moved zombie like to the bathroom where his pills were. A bottle of scotch sat atop the sink next to a well used tumbler. He filled the tumbler with the amber liquid an swallowed four pills. Hot tears spilled down his face. He was powerless. He could no longer control his body or mind and he was slipping further and further into the abyss of addiction. XxX 10:00 a.m. TransAtlantic Flt. 302 "I really wish you would have agreed to sit this one out." The sound of Mulder's voice was interfering with her sleep. "Mulder. I'm only going to say this once. You say that one more time and I will shoot you again. I don't give a flip what Skinner or anyone else has to say about it, because if it went to court I could easily plead insanity. After five years with you it's a wonder I can even form complete sentences." "Ooh! Did we forget our Thorzine Big Gulp this morning, Agent Scully?" She picked the heavy folder in her lap and smacked him resoundly on top of the head. "MULDER, I'm trying to sleep. Haven't you interrupted my sleep enough lately." "I thought you liked it when I interrupted your sleep." "Not when you're annoying me." She felt a large warm hand creeping up her thigh and worming its way under the hem of her skirt. Her eyes flew open and she brandished the folder again and swatted his hand. "Dammit Mulder," she said through clinched teeth, "The 'kids' are just four rows back." XxX TransAtlantic Flt. 302 4 Rows back "Reilly! Did you see that?" "See what?" "Scully just conked Mulder on the head with a folder." "Oh. Doesn't surprise me. I would imagine he deserved it." "I thought you liked Agent Mulder," he said leaning in toward his partner. She flinched a little and his close proximity to her, but kept her cool. "I do like Agent Mulder, but I don't have to work with him. If I had to work with him I'd probably want to smack him from time to time too. Don't get me wrong, Mulder's a brilliant agent, but from what I've learned his method IS madness and I'd say Scully deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for putting up with his shenanigans." "What about her Reilly? She doubts everything he says and constantly argues with him. I'd say they're evenly matched in the annoyance department." "Perhaps...perhaps that's why they work so well together." "Because they always argue?" "Yeah, I'm mean, eventually they come around to a consensus of some sort and by the time they get there they've seen all of the possibilities." "So you mean they argue as a means of analyzing things?" "Uh huh." He was still leaning over her and it was really unnerving her. He had a bad habit of doing that, always leaning in to her personal space. She assumed it was a male thing, she'd seen Mulder do it to Scully countless times and yet it didn't even phase Scully. That wasn't the case with her and Rogers. Rogers mere presence in the room made her skin twitch of late. She really had to get a handle on those feelings. "Reilly, do you think we work well as a team? I mean, we don't argue much but I think we've done all right on this case." "Rogers, we do so argue a lot. But I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing. And yes, I think we make a good team. I think Mulder and Scully think we've contributed a lot. I meant to tell you, that was good work getting a description of Suggs' killer out of the fish mongers." Rogers sighed. "Yeah, well Mulder seems to think they'll never catch the guy. He was also pretty mad at me for letting you wander off and get cold conked by that kook in the warehouse." "Don't worry about it. That was my mistake, but no harm done. I'll talk to Mulder about it if you want me to." "Nah, he'll just think you're trying to cover for me. He wasn't too hard on me. Don't worry about it." "Rogers?" "Yeah." "You worried about what we'll find in London." "A little. I more worried we won't find anything." XxX 3 Days Later 3:45 a.m. East End, London With each step he felt like he was going to fall. On his third consecutive night without sleep, Rogers almost wished they could just give up this foolish chase. The only thing keeping him going was Reilly's slight form running in front of him. They were chasing someone. He didn't know who it was, but they had startled some sort of transaction just a few minutes earlier and the man had fled. In the dark, it was hard to see but Rogers sensed it was Chambers. He idly wondered where Mulder and Scully were. Reilly ducked down an alley in front of him. His vision blurred and he turned down the alley and ran into a dumpster hidden in the shadows. He fell backward onto the pavement. He shook his head trying to re-orient himself again. The dumpster swam before his eyes as he desperately tried to focus them. He was just so tired. This case was so reminiscent of the Humbolt case. Weeks of exhausting work that ended in a wild goose chase that ultimately lost the suspect. His resolve had been shaken. He had never failed at something so absolutely. Anger bubbled up in Rogers. A surge of adrenaline pushed his weary legs up from the pavement. A horrific scream sent him running in the direction of the frightful noise, gun drawn. He heard the scream again, only this time it broke over his own name. Reilly. He moved his legs impossibly faster, crashing down the alleys like a madman. He couldn't let this happen. She was his partner. He couldn't lose her. He needed her. She didn't deserve to die like those other women. He couldn't let Chambers get away. His heart wrenched in his chest as he heard her cry out again. He rounded another corner and confronted one of his worst nightmares. XxX 3:47 a.m. Scully froze at the sound. A scream. Reilly's voice. She saw Mulder's lanky form tear down the alley in front of them and she followed. She heard the scream again as she fought to get her weapon free from its holster. She followed Mulder blindly as they raced down alley after alley in the direction of the noise. She wondered if Rogers was with Reilly or if they had somehow gotten separated. The whole thing was so surreal. Her body was working on four hours of sleep at the most and her mind was frustrated beyond comprehension. So many things about this case infuriated her. It was bad enough this monster had killed those prostitutes in the manner he had. Worse still Molly Suggs, a mother of a young boy, had brought this man to his madness. But the straw that broke the camel's back was the smoking bastard's involvement. Yet another high handed experiment. The smoker had destroyed the lives of so many people with no more concern for them than a scientist has for a lab animal. Her jaw clenched. She so desperately wanted to lash out, but at whom? Their one suspect was dead and the other so deftly alluded them. She rounded the next corner and was covered by dark. There was no light in the alleyway, just pitch black. She moved slowly and quietly, fumbling for her flashlight. She came up next to a dumpster and managed to pull the light free but she dropped it, hearing the crash of metal against the pavement. She held back a curse. Suddenly, a hand covered her mouth as another jerked her back forcefully. She began to struggle and then a voice spoke to her in a hushed whisper. "It's just me." He released her mouth and she followed the line of Mulder's finger to a dimly lit scene before them. "Don't move Scully, I don't want him to see us. I think he still has a weapon on her." XxX 3:57 a.m Reilly's breath came in short gasps. She was aware of how badly she was injured and that was only making it worse. There was so much blood. The skin on either side of the long deep gash burned. She'd never had a knife wound before. She struggled to keep conscious. Knowing flight was no longer an option, her fight instinct was just keeping its head above water. She had felt him stab her three times. Once in the arm, once in the shoulder. Then the dangerous one across her abdomen. She'd gotten off a lucky punch just after he cut her. Reilly's fist had connected with his jaw and send him sprawling to the ground. She heard the knife skitter across the pavement into the darkness, like her own weapon lost in the scuffle. She had at least managed to even the odds a little. He stood in front of her rubbing his jaw, but not moving towards her. She wanted to run but couldn't. She was helpless. He breathed heavily and was obviously in pain from the crack she'd given him to the face. She wondered if he'd broken his jaw when he hit the pavement. His silence was eerie. Then she heard her partner's voice. "Don't move, Chambers." She couldn't see anything but his shadow moving through the dark to her right. For a second she was relieved he'd arrived just in time. But in a flash, Chambers pulled a gun and fired at Rogers advancing form. She heard more footsteps to her left and then Chambers was gone. She looked back in Rogers direction in terror. A slumped shadow near the ground rose and advanced towards her. "Rogers?" she called out weakly. His face suddenly appeared in front of hers. He lifted a hand to her cheek. "I'm here, Reilly." XxX 3:59 a.m. Mulder heard the gunshot and headed straight in Chambers' direction. But like a ghost he suddenly disappeared down yet another alley. He and Scully stopped in front of it dumbly staring in the direction they thought he went. He heard a gasp come from his partner. "REILLY!" Her cell phone appeared from a pocket and she was calling the paramedics before he even had a chance to figure out the woman lying in aheap on the ground was Agent Reilly. He dimly thought Rogers looked like he was going to faint. Sweat beaded Mulder's brow. Reilly was hurt badly. Scully pushed past him and began checking her wounds. He heard THE voice. The one Scully used when she's really worried but doesn't want anyone to know. "Rogers, give me your tie." She wrapped the tie around Reilly's middle and cinched it up. She was trying to stop the bleeding. Mulder went white. This couldn't happen. She was too young and she had a brilliant career ahead of her. He was thankful he could only see the back of Scully's head because he just didn't want to know how bad it was. Then he made the mistake of looking at Rogers face. A mirror. He saw his own face the night Scully disappeared. The hurt. The frustration. The anger. The fear. Rogers was afraid. His jaw was slack and his skin ashen. He was gripping Reilly's hand, a stream of barely audible words were leaking from his lips and then one very loud one. "NO!" He rose from his crouched position and slammed his fist into the wall. Then Mulder heard Scully use a different voice, equally terrifying, the one she used when she was trying to calm Mulder down. "Rogers, you can't lose it now." She reached up with one of her strong hands and grabbed his. "Don't let her die, Scully! You can't let her die." Then Mulder saw Scully do something she only rarely let him do when she was hurting. She stood and she hugged Rogers. As quickly as it began, it ended and she tugged his hand and body back down next to Reilly. "Hold her hand, Rogers. Give her your strength." Mulder couldn't believe his ears. Not a terribly scientific statement to come from the mouth of his skeptic. He stepped over behind her and put his hand on her shoulder and she stood up. Mulder's eyes searched hers, trying to determine if Scully thought Reilly was going to make it. He didn't like what he saw. The wail of a siren split the air and suddenly the alley was full of paramedics. Mulder looked skyward as if to find some answer there. What he saw was Sullivan Chambers watching them from a catwalk high above the pavement. XxX 4:15 a.m. Jack continued to let Chambers body watch the scene below them. Chambers was appalled by what had happened. Jack couldn't contain his happiness, especially after the little bitch had broken their jaw. He could tell by the way the redhead was acting his victim would assuredly die. He laughed. "Good work, Sullie ol' boy. Sure, she wasn't a whore, but she was a bitch and she deserved it. I've been wantin' to get back at the bobbies for years!" "Shut up you bastard, I never wanted to kill anyone," Chambers pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at his head. "I'm going to end this, Jack. It's over. I can't live like this anymore and you can't stop me." "Ya don't have the guts you weak willed imbecile! Ya needed me all this time to even take a piss. Don' try to tell me ya' think ya' can control this now, ya' aren't man enough." The room spun. His feet moved in circles causing the floorboards to creak. He dimly wondered when the last time was someone was actually in the old building. He'd thought it a stroke of pure luck to find the open door in his flight from the FBI agents. Chambers slumped against the wall and began to sob. Jack was right. He wasn't man enough to kill himself. He was a coward. That much was obvious, he was so much a coward he'd allowed Jack to be created so he could live out his murderous impulses. His jaw stung and he slumped his head. "CHAMBERS!" The FBI agent's voice boomed through open window. The FBI agent had seen him. He scrambled to his feet and ran. He tore down the flight of steps that had lead him to his hiding place and onto the street. But he heard footsteps behind him. He tossed a look over his shoulder and saw the redheaded woman and the sleepy eyed agent behind him close on his heels. He ducked down alley after alley almost giving them the slip each time. Shot whizzed past him, but his adrenaline surged and kept him just far enough ahead. He ducked down another alley that sent him out onto a street directly facing the Thames. He crept over to a wooden shack near a pier and hid in the shadows catching his breath. They weren't far behind though. He heard their approach. XxX 4:25 a.m. It was inevitable. They had to split up. Scully braced herself for the argument, but she knew they'd never find Chambers unless they split up. She also knew the risk of splitting up. They both ran the risk of being injured or killed by this monster. She stared at the water and then looked to her partner. Mulder hung his head. "Scully, we have to split up." "Yes, Mulder we do." "Scully..." "Mulder, we have to catch him." Her eyes focused on him, willing him to understand everything she was feeling. How scared she was for both them and for Reilly. Reilly was in bad shape. She kept avoiding saying the words, even in her head. But her doctor's mind kept telling her it was likely Reilly would die. She'd lost so much blood and God only knew how many internal organs he'd damaged. She shook her head. "Mulder, we owe it to Reilly," and without another word she ran off into the darkness. XxX 4:30 a.m. Rogers arrived just in time to see Mulder and Scully split up. He kept quiet because he wasn't certain what they saw yet. He moved off in another direction. He wanted to be the one to find Chambers. He would kill him. There was no question. He would not let one of these bastards do this to him again. Tears streamed down his face. Reilly. He thought back to the plane ride to London. They'd finally started relaxing around one another. She'd even started allowing him the occasional joke. He'd even made her laugh a couple of times. Then, just before they landed at Heathro, she'd actually touched his arm and giggled at some remark he made about British food. He'd been sunk. Hell, he was sunk when she argued with him about how women in the FBI were swimming in a testosterone cesspool. He'd stopped fighting the attraction to her and after that brief touch on the plane, he thought maybe she felt the same. He dimly wondered if he'd ever know now. His anger rose to the surface again. He made his partner a solemn promise. "I will get this bastard Erin Reilly, if I have to die trying." XxX 4:45 a.m. London Hospital Tubes ran out of her body in all directions. She felt so weak. Reilly's eyes slid shut and popped open again. She was fighting. She'd seen Scully's face just before she passed out, she knew it didn't look good for her. But now she lie in the comfort of the hospital bed and she felt like she was coming back to herself, but only slightly. She imagined it was the pain killers they'd given her. The white hot pain in her abdomen was gone. She was dimly aware she'd been in surgery, but everything else was a blur. She began to feel the recesses of sleep pull at her. Her last waking thought was of Rogers holding her hand. She drifted away. XxX 4:45 a.m. Near the Thames Scully rounded the corner of the small shack gun drawn. She wasn't taking any chances. It was just so damn hard to see. To make matters worse, fog was rolling in off the water. She neared the dumpster and stopped. She heard a noise. Twisting her head in the noise's direction she suddenly felt a shooting pain in her shoulder. She hit the ground with violent force and Sullivan Chambers was standing over her. XxX 4:46 a.m Chambers picked up the tiny redhead. He'd almost knocked her unconscious, but he could tell by the way she was looking at him she was still alert, just woozy. He pulled her out into the street under the lights. "Hey FBI man! I got somethin' ya' want, ol' boy. Why don' ya' come out an' show yourself." He turned in circles, holding his gun to the woman's head. Jack was having fun. Chambers was inwardly falling apart. He didn't want to do this, he couldn't kill again, this had gone on way too long. His eyes focused on a dark haired man running out of the shadows. "You let her go you sick fuck!" he shouted. "Oh no. Now why would I do a thing like that? I'm havin' fun. Wish I could say I was sorry bout your other lass, but she hurt me jaw. It's a shame she ha' ta' go like that." He felt the redhead struggle in his grasp and he tightened his grip on her. "Let's talk ol' boy. You want your partner here back in one piece and I want to keep me head. I think that's a reasonable trade, don' ya?" "You son of a bitch you let her go and you let her go now...SCULLY!" The sound of the woman's name wrenched from the FBI man's lips, but Jack didn't hear it. Jack heard Chambers nickname. "Sullie." Chambers immediately loosened his hold on the redheaded woman and she started to run. Jack struggled to regain control and after a few seconds raised the gun to fire at the fleeing woman. XxX 4:46 a.m. Mulder wanted to fire. He knew he had to fire but he couldn't get his finger to squeeze the trigger. If he fired now, he ran the risk of hitting Scully. Terror gripped him. If he didn't fire, Chambers would shoot her. The seconds stretched by like hours and then he heard the shot. He whipped his head toward Scully expecting to see her fall, but she kept running forward and then dove for the ground, rolling behind a dumpster. Stunned he returned his gaze to Chambers, who now lie collapsed in a heap on the ground. Walking up quickly behind him was John Rogers. Rogers got to the body and fixed Mulder with his angry green eyes. "It's over Mulder." XxX 4:46 a.m. Scully left her hiding place near the dumpster and walked over to the body. She rolled the body over on its back and checked for a pulse, assuring Chambers was dead. Then something caught her eye, the gold leaf letters on a black leather Bible poking out of the pocket on Chambers' coat. She remembered her dream and shivered. She turned to Rogers. "Rogers, I thought you went to the hospital." "I started to but then I heard you chasing him...I wanted to be there when you caught him, for Reilly." Rogers started to cry. "She's going to die isn't she, Scully?" "Shh, Rogers, we don't know that." She rubbed his shoulder and looked over to Mulder. "Call the London PD." She watched him dial with shaking fingers. It was a miracle Rogers showed up. She remembered how scared Mulder looked when she ran from Chambers. She shivered again as she watched self doubt roll over him like the fog rolling off the water. XxX 4:46 a.m. The stale air of the warehouse surrounded him as he watch the scene below unfold. It played out as he thought it would, except he'd been certain Chambers would have killed himself. It didn't matter, the job had been accomplished. Now all that was left to do was destroy the evidence back in DC and move on to the next project. He smiled. He was always happy to move on. It gave him a sense of moving forward. He'd arrange to have Star burned down one night next week. The researchers were all clueless as to what the Migratol project was about. The only person who was a possible danger to his project was the man who'd secured the funds from the government for him. But he wasn't too worried about that. He had hooked his government friend on the drug as well. There was little doubt in his mind he had complete control of that man. He pulled a Morley from the packet in his shirt pocket. The match briefly illuminated the musty air around him and then died out. He took a long drag and smiled. He spoke to no one at all. "Very good Agent Mulder. You've served me well again." XxX 5:15 a.m. London Hospital "She's going to recover Agent Rogers, but she's very weak. She needs to sleep now, but I'll let you see her. Just don't stay in there too long." Rogers sighed heavily and pushed the door to Reilly's room open. He silently thanked God and anyone else who'd listen for letting her live. Letting her live. Knowing his partner, she probably kicked death in the balls the way she conked Chambers after he'd nearly killed her. He stared at her sleeping form. For the first time since he'd known Erin Reilly, she looked frail. He felt hot tears trickle down his face again. He couldn't believe he'd fallen in love with her. But he didn't want to stop. He'd just have to figure out a way to deal with the feelings. He didn't want to lose her as a partner so he knew discretion was necessary. Not to mention, he wasn't sure of her feelings either. The thought of her not loving him was almost as frightening as thinking she was going to die. He crossed the room to the chair next to her bed and took her hand in his. He ran his fingers over the fine bones of her hand. So delicate yet so strong, just like the woman they belonged to. He used his other hand to brush her hair away from her face. Suddenly, he felt her small fingers squeeze his hand. He looked up into her fierce, brown eyes. "Rogers," she squeaked. "Yeah, Reilly. I'm here. You really scared me. But the doctor says you're going to be OK." She nodded and continued to hold his hand. He idly wished she'd never stop. "Hey," she whispered, "sorry I ditched you. Guess I learned my lesson. Guess you could call me a hypocrite." She gave him a pained smile. He chuckled a little. "It's OK Reilly. I've just got to learn to keep up with you. Listen, you need to rest. We got Chambers. I had to shoot him. He almost killed Scully. She's OK, she got away before he could shoot her. She and Mulder are kind of shaken but we're all OK. It's all over but the shouting now." She gave his hand another squeeze and then her eyes slipped shut. Rogers jerked his head up when the door swung open and Mulder stepped in. "How is she Rogers?" He whispered. "She's going to be all right. I can't tell you how relieved I am...I..." "I know. I wig every time Scully stubs her toe. She hates it and my guess is Reilly will too. But you're only human. I just can't believe I let Scully get in a hostage situation like that again. I'm such a fuck up. I knew we shouldn't have split up..." "Mulder. We all did what we had too. I should have been closer behind Reilly. Don't beat yourself up about this. Just be happy things turned out as well as they did. We got the bad guy Mulder. Now we can go home." XxX 5:20 a.m. Go home indeed. Mulder didn't have the heart to tell the young agent that's where the real bad guy was. Chances were good that the true villain in all this would get away. He always did. Mulder sighed. "I'm going back to the hotel Rogers, you want to share a cab?" "Nah, I'll stay with Reilly a little longer." Mulder nodded and turned for the door. He glanced back over his shoulder and looked at Rogers. His mirror. Once again he saw himself sitting next to Scully's bed as she lie in a coma. He remembered how badly he just wanted to hold her then and bring her back to him. Why hadn't he? He wondered. He lived so much of his life regretting the things he hadn't done. It really hadn't been necessary to wait as long as he did to admit his feelings for Scully. But yet he waited until they had a big fight and he was ready to say anything to get her to stay. His fear had forced the truth. He was tired of doubting everything. Maybe Rogers was right. He needed to give himself a break and just stop second guessing himself. The cab pulled up and he stepped in. He longed to be back at the hotel and get some merciful sleep. But before he did that there was something he had to do. This time he wasn't going to hold back. XxX 5:30 a.m. Majesty Arms Hotel Scully tossed fitfully in her sleep, trying to avoid the shoulder Chambers had managed to injure twice. Despite her exhaustion, her mind simply wouldn't let her relax. She sat bolt up in bed when the connecting door between her and Mulder's room swung open. Her partner stood there, hair hanging in his eyes looking positively wild. And naked. "Mulder?" He didn't say a word. He crossed the room and pulled the sheets away from her. He leaned over her body, pinning her arms to the bed and kissed her fiercely. She turned her head away surprised by the sudden intrusion. She was a little frightened, not by him, by the look on his face. "Let me hold you, Scully." "Hey," she wormed her arms free and pulled him into the bed next to her, cradling her head against her chest. He pulled her to him. He was trembling. She sighed. They'd all had some serious close calls on this case and she imagined their last encounter with Chambers would fuel nightmares for both of them for a long time to come. She ran her hands along the planes of his chest and his breathing seemed to calm. "Don't get me wrong, Mulder. I love to see you naked and wild. But not wild like this. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." She stroked his hair and wished like hell she could make this easier for him. The truth of the matter was she couldn't. As long as they both were in the line of work they were in, things like this would happen. "We got lucky tonight, Mulder. And I'd rather be lucky as good anytime. It scared me too. I'm still scared. But that could have just as easily been you held at gunpoint. We made it, OK?" She felt his hands slide under her nightshirt, gently rubbing her belly. His nuzzled her neck and his placed a warm, wet kiss in the hollow of her throat. "I need you Scully," he said, his voice breaking. "I need to feel you alive around me. I need to come down from this pinnacle of fear I'm perched on. I need you to bring me down from it. "I need you to love me, like I love you. I need you to let me worry and sometimes to let me hold you and care for you. You do that for me. I want you to let me do it for you." "Mulder, you know how much I love you. I accept that you worry about me, I can't tell you I'm going to like it...but I am growing more comfortable with it. As for holding me, I rather prefer it when it's like this and we hold each other." He looked up at her and kissed her lips. His hands drifted up her rib cage and cupped her breasts. He ran his palms over her nipples until she felt them stiffen to taut peaks. Then he pinched them and she wanted to scream. She groaned into his mouth and slid her hands down to touch his length. She stroked him lightly until he pulled away from the kiss in a gasp. "I do need you Mulder. Never doubt that. Not just like this. I need everything that is you." Then he slanted his mouth over hers again. She felt him part her lips with tongue and she opened her mouth to him. He tasted like bitter coffee and sunflower seeds. She couldn't think of anything that tasted better at the moment. He lowered his head, nipping and licking down the length of her throat. She gasped as he licked around the aureole to her nipple and then suckled it. "God Mulder." She increased her own minstrations to his ever-growing erection. She drew her hand all the way up his length, relishing in the hard, silky feel of him. He jumped and twitched in her hand. As she reached the tip, she felt the bead of moisture at the top and swirled it around, mimicking the motions of his tongue over her breasts. He suddenly jerked away and she felt the cool rush of air harden her nipples further. He stared at her with an intensity she hadn't seen from him in some time and he crushed his mouth to hers again. He reached down between them and stilled her hand. She tried to protest but he stopped her. "No, Scully. I want to make you come first. I need to see it." She cried out as she felt his fingers part her folds and gently stroke. She was already wet from his earlier attentions but now her arousal was growing in earnest. Her hips bucked as his tongue found its way inside her navel, swirling around in rhythm with his hands. He slipped a second finger inside her and began to pump furiously. Her whole body seemed to be on fire, burning with want. "Mulderrr, pleease..." "Please what,Scully?" he growled. "You want me to make you come?" "Yesssss..." His head lowered and he began lick her clit while pumping his hand. Small geometric shapes danced before her eyes that were screwed shut. She had been reduced to cries and nonsensical words. Her legs were quivering, poised for release. Then he nipped slightly at her clit and she came, his name tearing from her lips in a guttural cry. She was shaking all over when she felt him slid up her body again to kiss her. She felt his own throbbing sex knocking against her thigh. She reached for it again and stroked him. He tossed his head back and cried out. "Unhhh, Sculleee..." "Mulder...inside me...please." He shifted and plunged into her. They moaned in unison. She dimly thought she always felt this way when they first joined. Him sinking into her and her taking him in. The very thought of it could make her wet in the middle of the day. She couldn't remember how many times she'd simply looked at him at a crime scene or at the office and thought of just this. Then she always needed to get a hold of herself, stop herself from taking the thought further because what came next was more than she could stand. He began to slide in and out of her slowly and she moved with him. They were building the delicious pressure they needed to send them into oblivion. She clutched his ass and pushed it to her urging him on. He increased his pace slightly. She guessed he was wanting to draw this out given his pace. Just like Mulder, he'd only be happy if he drove them both insane. "I need more Scully..." he croaked. "So take it all Mulder, I need it too." He slammed into her and she met him thrust for thrust. She was quickly reaching the place where she no longer knew where she began and Mulder ended. All she could feel was the slap of their bodies and the explosive sensations flooding her sex. She felt his thumb rubbing at her clit. He was delicate at first and then suddenly he was spinning it like a top and she was lost. She screamed as the bright burst of her orgasm erupted in her body sending her hurtling onto another plane of existence. She heard Mulder's roar as he followed behind her. The room stopped spinning just as they both collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs. Her mind was no longer working over time. In fact, she wasn't sure she could form a coherent sentence, but she tried. "Love you Mulder." "Lub you too Scuh-lee." She snuggled closer to his sweaty frame, stroking his back. She was a tactile person and touching him like this in the afterglow always brought her back to herself. He kissed her forehead and drew her in closer. Soon they were both in the blissful recesses of sleep. XxX Two Weeks Later 9:00 a.m. FBI Headquarters Skinner sat his coffee on the blotter next to him. A red file folder lay on the desk in front of him. He sighed heavily, almost afraid to read it. For once he wasn't afraid of the ghosts or monsters within the file. Today he feared the ghosts and monsters that still lurked in the memories of the four agents this case had touched. Sliding his finger under the flap he opened the file. He took a long drink of his coffee and scrubbed his face. He knew this file was the basis for many of his upcoming decisions. He began to read and the voice of Agent Mulder filled his head. "Case Number VCS342167 Report of Special Agent Fox Mulder Special Agent Dana Scully Contributing Suspect Sullivan J. Chambers, MD has been found responsible for the murders of 11 prostitutes in the Washington DC area and for 3 in England. The suspect was found to be under the influence of alcohol and an experimental drug known as Migratol. The combined effect of both substances heightened latent violent tendencies in Chambers that I believe led him to kill. The suspect also had a fascination with the life and crimes of the 19th Century killer known only as Jack the Ripper. Chambers had read extensively on the subject and seemed to want to re-visit all of the Ripper's crimes on his victims. Evidence found at the suspect's home supports this. Chambers had an extensive collection of viscera stored in his basement. His library was filled with books on Jack the Ripper and other serial killers. A personal diary among Chambers books indicates he was a religious zealot who wanted to punish prostitutes for their sins. A Bible found in Chambers' pocket after he was shot by Agent Rogers also seems to support this theory. Chambers received the drug he was taking from his lone accomplice, Molly Suggs. Suggs worked at the pharmaceutical company, Star, that was producing and doing research on Migratol. Suggs was instrumental in Chambers addiction to the drug, however it is my belief she did not act alone. In the investigation of this case, I came into contact with the man the Bureau has come to know only as the Cigarette Smoking Man. He claimed to know why Chambers was taking the drug and an unauthorized records search revealed Star was receiving funds from an unknown government source to research the effects of the drug on behavior. A company known only as EMANON was purportedly providing the funding for the project. Attempts tocontact the company turned up only wrong telephone numbers and a PO Box no longer in use. Verification of this study is no longer possible as Star Pharmaceuticals burned to the ground late last week. Molly Suggs was kidnapped from FBI Headquarters before adequate questioning of her could be completed. Her body was discovered by Metro PD at the Maine Avenue Seafood Wharf. She had been shot in the head. Special Agents John Rogers and Erin Reilly identified the body. A description of her killer obtained by Agent Rogers led us to the suspect, a Donald Andrews. Andrews is in custody at this time awaiting trial. The main suspect, Chambers, was killed in a shoot out with Agents Scully, Rogers and myself. Agent Scully performed the autopsy and found high quantities of Migratol in Chambers' body. She has concluded he was most positively addicted to the substance. Our own observance of his behavior indicates his violent tendencies were assuredly influenced by the drug. The remaining suspect, the Cigarette Smoking Man, remains missing and we would be hard pressed to have any evidence against him without Star Pharmaceuticals' records and Molly Suggs. Interviews with Star's employees revealed no new evidence. We also interviewed Molly Suggs' son. He claims to know nothing more about his mother's involvement in the case and is now living with his aunt. For now this case remains open but inactive until further evidence comes to light regarding the drug research. ADDENDUM: Regarding the evaluation of the abilities of Agents John Rogers and Erin Reilly: it is Agent Scully and I's belief they are both bright, capable and hard working. Agent Reilly's background in forensics is a true compliment to Agent Rogers' investigative background. Scully and I both feel they are your best candidates to run the VCS department in it's current capacity. We would be more than happy to continue to consult for the VCS while Agent Reilly recovers, but Agent Scully and I both are ready to go back to our own much neglected work for the time being. We look forward to your response to this matter. Signed, Special Agent Fox Mulder Special Agent Dana Scully XxX 9:30 a.m. Erin Reilly Residence "So, how ya' feeling?" Reilly sighed. It still hurt when she moved very much but much of the soreness was gone. She would begin her physical therapy the following week. She was actually looking forward to it, she was tired of Rogers coming to visit her. She wanted to visit him for a change. "I'm sick to death of my own apartment, I'll tell you that much. I can't wait to get out next week." "Well don't get in too big of a rush. I don't want you to get hurt again." She touched her partner's hand. She was a little surprised at how close this had drawn them. She was a little fearful and a little excited. The look in Rogers eyes when she woke up that morning in the hospital had unnerved her. He'd later told her they all expected her to die. He'd also told her he didn't know what he would have done if she had. He gave her hand a squeeze. "I talked to Mulder this morning. He and Scully have recommended us to take over the VCS. Do you believe that?" "They did not!" "They did. And I have a confession to make. I was totally wrong about Scully. She's not a cold fish. Reserved yes, but never cold." "Why do you say that Rogers?" She said, a twinge of jealousy creeping into her voice. "Well, she saw how upset I got when you were hurt. She was really great about it. We sat down and had a talk. She and Mulder had been through a lot of similar scrapes. She told me he has a tendency to blame himself for it. She says he and I are a lot alike and she didn't want me falling into the same trap. I was really grateful she took the time to tell me that." Reilly smiled. "See, I told you she wasn't all bad. You still think Mulder's a kook?" "Nah, he's weird. But he's not a kook." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "He told me it was OK to worry about you." She shivered a little at the kiss. Sure it was chaste, but was there more to it. His eyes were dancing as he talked to her. A niggle of fear welled up in her. Fighting her attraction to her partner was going to be the single most difficult obstacle she'd faced in her career. She just wondered if she was up to it. XxX 9:45 a.m. CIA Headquarters Director's Office "What can you tell me about the experiment?" He took a long drag from his cigarette. "Only that it was successful, but more work needs to be done. I'll need more money and a more discrete research facility to perfect the drug." "WHAT? What do you think this is a bank? I just can't give you that." "Why not? You did before," he exhaled the smoke into the man's face. "Besides, you still want the medication I secured for you don't you Director?" "You bastard. I'll have you killed." "And then what? Who'll do your dirty work for you?" "Fuck you. You'll get your fuckin' money, just tell me how much you need and where you want this facility." "I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking." XxX 10:01 a.m. Fox Mulder Residence Mulder raised his arms carefully over his head. He didn't want to wake the sleeping form curled against his chest. She shivered a little and he pulled the ragged blanket up over them further. She sighed and snuggled into him. He hated it when she did that. His lower extremities got anxious when she did that. He knew she didn't do it on purpose, but God was it infuriating...and arousing. He kissed the top of her head and she did it again. "Damn it, Scully," he muttered under his breath. He was answered by giggling. Evil Scully giggling. Her head popped up from his chest. "What's the matter there, Mulder? You getting a little stiff?" "So you were doing that on purpose!" he scolded. He kissed her fiercely. He was a little giddy this morning. He'd fulfilled one of his greatest fantasies the previous evening. He'd made love to Scully on his couch. He was getting even more excited now because it looked like he was going to get to do it again. Then the phone rang. "Oh shit," he muttered. He reached behind him and grabbed the phone. "Hello." "Agent Mulder." "Yes sir," he said sitting up and almost dumping Scully to the floor. "I've read your report. I'm not pleased about the unauthorized viewing of records but everything else appears to be in order. You all did an outstanding job. "As for your recommendations regarding Rogers and Reilly, I concur. They will assume their posts as soon as Reilly has fully recuperated. Rogers is taking some well needed leave and I'm forcing you and Scully to take some. Rogers will head VCS when he returns from leave. I'll expect you and Scully to help him out until Reilly returns." "Yes, sir. Just exactly how much leave are you forcing us to take?" "The rest of the week Agent Mulder. Should I call Agent Scully, or would you like to tell her?" "I'll tell her sir," he said eyeing his partner with an evil glint in his eye, "I'll give her the message." He hung up the phone. Scully's eyebrow reached skyward. "Message, Mulder?" "Yeah, Skinner says you have to spend the rest of the week with me on this couch." She smacked him and then smiled a wicked smile. "The whole week, huh?" Mulder nodded. "Well Agent Mulder, what creative things can we do with a leather couch in a week." "Let me show you Agent Scully." XxX Epilogue Personal Journal Dana Scully "I want to believe." I stare at that poster almost every day at work. I managed to ignore it for a long time. My role is that of the skeptic. I am here to show the scientific and logical reason for everything we come across in our work. So many things have happened in the last five years. We've been on cases that have shaken my faith as well as made me fear the other people I share this planet with. Mulder is rarely shaken. It's not that he doesn't empathize or feel for the victims in the cases we investigate. I fear that it is simply he is seldom surprised by the inhumanity we face. The inhumanity of our last case was a little more than I could bare. The crimes were so violent and so senseless. I watched this case unfold through the youthful eyes of two new field agents and I am more than impressed with their strength to keep going. I feel I've regained a little of my own fortitude through Agents Rogers and Reilly. I also saw this case through the eyes of both the killer and the victims. I have no explanation for this other than the visions came to me in dreams. I do not believe in psychic ability and I assume these dreams were mere intuitions and I was attempting to solve this case even in my sleep. Yet I am disturbed by their vivid detail. The Bible I found on Sullivan Chambers' body that so closely resembled the one I saw in my dream as well as the shootout I also dreamed of haunt me to this day. I can't explain it and perhaps I don't want to. But once again, I'm forced to think hard about those words, "I want to believe." The End