Deviant

By Danielle Culverson
smythja@aston.ac.uk
 

Date: Wed May 21 17:07:39 1997

This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris
Carter.  No infringement of  copyrights held by 10/13 Productions,
Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All
unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me.  Names,
characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used
fictitiously.  No connection to any person, living or dead, is
intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental.  Feel free to
distribute, but please keep me as the author.

Rating - 18  (R) - For content that couldn't be shown on Fox involving
language and sexual descriptions..

Classification - X, A.

Summary - Mudler and Scully investigate the latest in a series of
murders, but Mulder realises he has an unpleasantly close connection
with the deceased.

This is for Gerry Hill, whose idea it started out as.

Danielle Culverson.

~~~

Deviant
By Danielle Culverson

     Fox Mulder turned over in bed and tried to hold onto the
     last moments of sleep as they slipped away.  Consciousness
     stole over him with the unwelcomeness of a large phone bill, and
     gradually enough awareness returned for his consciouss mind to
     remind him that it must be time he got up and headed to work.

     Mulder sighed in reluctance to leave the haven of his warm
     double bed, and then gave a sleepy frown as he searched his
     mind for the reason he had chosen to sleep in his bed last
     night.

     Then it all came back to him in a rush, and his lips
     stretched wide in a satisfied smile as he opened his eyes. -
     Tracey.

     Mulder stared in surprise at the other side of the bed,
     which was empty.  The sheets were in a state of disarray,
     but the pillows on the far side of the bed didn't even look
     like they'd been slept on.  Mulder gave a faint sigh, - now
     he knew what it felt like to wake up alone the morning
     after.

     The previous night he had gone to a bar in Great Falls Park, just
     south of the Potomac River.  He had only been there a couple of
     times before, but for some reason he had decided to go there
     instead of his usual bar, - "Ripleys", - last night.  And he had
     been very glad he had.

     Mulder had met Tracey at the bar, - an attractive,
     long-legged brunette, who had just had an argument with her
     date, and he had left her alone at the bar without a ride
     home.  She and Mulder had got talking, and after a few hours of
     friendly conversation, what had started up as an interesting
     short-term friendship had been definitely headed somewhere else.
     They had both been aware of it, and both knew it for what it
     would be, - a one-night stand, giving some enjoyment to both of
     them before they parted their ways the next morning.

     So, when the bar owner had announced closing time, Mulder
     and Tracey had finished their drinks, walked back along a
     track through the woods at the side of the Potomac to where
     Mulder had left his car, and he had driven them back to his
     apartment.

     Then...

     Mulder gave a satisfied sigh, and crossed his arms across
     his chest as he closed his eyes to let the memory continue
     in full force.  It had been the best night he had had in a
     long time...

     Giving in to the persistent voice in the back of his head
     which reminded him he had to be at the office in less than
     an hour, he swung his feet off the bed, and headed for the
     shower.

                       *          *          *

     Mulder entered the ground floor of the J. Edgar Hoover
     building, and made his way quickly through the "bull-ring"
     towards the elevator that would take him to the basement
     office where he and Dana Scully worked.

     As usual, he appearance created something of a stir amongst
     the people he worked with, most of whom knew him only by
     reputation.  Conversations stopped and started around him,
     and staring eyes followed his progress across the room, but
     as usual, Mulder didn't notice the hostility aimed at him.
     His mind was still in a daze over the events of the previous
     night, and he was silently, and almost unconsciously amazed that
     a girl he had known for only a few hours had had such an effect
     on him.

     He yawned as he crossed the room, and the good manners he
     had been taught as a boy showed through as he unconsciously
     lifted one hand to cover his open mouth.

     "Up late chasing UFO's were you last night, eh "Spooky"?"
     came a call from across the room.  There was some laughter
     amongst the agents who had paused in their work to watch
     Mulder's passage, but Mulder barely heard either the remark
     or the laughter. - He was so used to tuning them out now
     that it was second nature to him.

     Reaching the elevator, Mulder pressed the button for down,
     and the door opened immediately.  He stepped inside, and the car
     descended to the basement level.

     The basement was much quieter than the busy area upstairs,
     although the work done down here often created a much larger
     disturbance in the upper echelons of the Bureau hierarchy. Mostly
     the basement was full of old files, case notes, and bits of
     information gathered by the FBI since it had first begun
     investigating federal crimes.

     Also, the basement was home to the X-files.

     Mulder opened the door of the X-files office, and nodded to
     his petite auburn-haired partner who was already sitting at
     her desk.  She looked up at him, and smiled in greeting.
     Getting up, she raised a hand to stop him removing his black
     overcoat.

     "I'm glad you've got here, Mulder. - We've got a new case,
     and Skinner wants us to get started right away."  She moved
     towards the coat-stand, where she retrieved her own
     overcoat, and put it on.

     "Oh?"  Mulder asked.  Scully picked up a file from her desk
     and lifted her briefcase with her other hand.

     "A young woman was killed in Great Falls Park last night, -
     strangled. - Skinner wants us up at the scene as soon as
     possible."  She held the case-file out to her partner, but
     he waved it aside with one hand, preferring, - as always, -
     her to tell him the important points of the case as they
     headed towards the scene.

     They hurried towards the elevator, on their way to the FBI
     car park, as Scully explained what they knew so far.

     "The woman hasn't been identified yet.  She was found in the
     woods of Great Falls Park this morning by one of the park
     rangers.  The cause of death appears to be strangulation. The
     time of death has been placed at 11.30pm last night. Sexual
     intercourse took place, probably just before death. - That's
     pretty much all we know.  The general profile of the suspect is a
     male in his mid-thirties, of average to above average height, and
     quite fit."

     Mulder nodded in silence as he turned the facts over in his
     mind.  They entered the car park, and moved quickly towards
     his car.  He unlocked the drivers door, and then leaned
     through inside to open the passenger door for Scully.

     "Any photographs in there?"  he asked, nodding towards the
     case-file she still held in one hand, as he did up his
     seat-belt.  She shook her head.

     "Not yet, - the body was only discovered a couple of hours
     ago."

     Mulder shrugged, started the engine, and pulled away.

     "And there's more good news. - Skinner wants us to work with
     Agent Greeber and Agent Walbrook on this."

     "Oh, great."  Mulder muttered.  Scully smiled.

                       *          *          *

     Twenty minutes later they had left the morning traffic of
     Washington, and were entering the woods of Great Falls park. The
     road they were on led past the bar where Mulder had been the
     previous night, and he nodded to it as they passed.

     "If we're still around here at lunch time, we're eating
     there."  he told Scully,  "They do the best fried chicken
     north of Alexandria."

     Scully smiled, and said nothing, wondering how her partner
     could even be contemplating food so early in the morning.  A few
     minutes later, she directed him into a clearing where a couple of
     police cars were parked.  Mulder pulled up behind a sedan he
     uncomfortably recognised as belonging to Agent Greeber, and
     switched off the engine.  Getting out of the car, he and Scully
     moved across the clearing to where a small tent had been set up
     to protect the site.  A police officer approached them.

     "Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder."  Scully
     introduced herself and her partner to the officer,  "If you
     don't mind I'd like to take a look at the body."

     "Be my guest."  the officer replied, gesturing at the body
     behind him with one hand.  Scully moved ahead of her partner to
     where the body was still lying, and squatted down at the side of
     it to get a good look.  Mulder took a good look at the area first
     before approaching the body, - corpses had always been more
     Scully's thing than his. - He leaned over her shoulder to get a
     look at the dead girl, who was lying on her back, one hand thrown
     up above her head.  He drew his breath in sharply when he saw her
     face, and turned quickly away.  Scully heard his quick retreat,
     and glanced around in concern.  She saw him move towards the car,
     and quickly finished up her examination before rising to her feet
     again and going to see what was bothering her partner.

     "Mulder?"  Scully asked, taking off the rubber gloves she
     had donned to examine the body,  "Are you alright?"

     Mulder turned towards her, and she saw a haunted look in his
     eyes.

     "I know who she is."  he said quietly, his eyes fixed on his
     partner,  "But... are you sure she died at 11.30pm? - She
     couldn't have been killed later?"

     "Well, I need to carry out some more tests, but I'd say from the
     state of the body, and the amount of cooling so far that 11.30pm
     was a pretty good estimate."  Scully replied, looking at her
     partner in concern,  "Rigor mortis has set in completely, so she
     must have been dead at least eight hours, possibly longer."

     Mulder glanced at his watch, and saw that it was not yet
     9am.  He frowned in confusion.

     "What's this about, Mulder? - Who is she?"

     "Her... her name's Tracey. - I don't know her last name."
     Mulder replied,  "I was up at the bar here last night, and
     we got talking.  She came back to my apartment with me
     afterwards..."  He trailed off, and from the look on his
     face Scully didn't need to ask what had happened.  "We were
     up until at least 2am,"  Mulder continued,  "but when I got
     up this morning, she had already left."

     "Mulder, there is no way this woman was alive at 2am last
     night."  Scully said, shaking her head,  "How much did you
     have to drink last night?"

     "Not much, - I was driving back. - Tracey and I walked
     almost right past here, on the track just through there on
     the way back to my car."  He pointed through the trees in
     the direction of the woodland track.

     "Your car? - What was your car doing out here?"  Scully
     asked.  Mulder shrugged.

     "I parked it down the road from the bar. - I'm not sure why
     I left it quite so far away though."

     Scully shook her head slowly.  "I don't know what to make of
     this, Mulder."  she said carefully,  "I really don't think this
     woman could have been alive much after midnight at the latest. -
     And how she could have got back here from your apartment, after
     2am..."  She trailed, shaking her head again.

     "Well, look who it is. - "Spooky" and Agent Scully."

     Scully turned around to see Agents Greeber and Walbrook
     approaching with the park ranger who had found the body with
     them.  Mulder looked up at the two men, groaning inwardly, and
     prayed he wouldn't lose his temper with Greeber.

                       *          *          *

     Scully glanced at her partner as he parked the car behind
     Greeber and Walbrook's outside the bar.  It was only five
     minutes drive from the crime scene, and probably about
     twenty minutes on foot.  Mulder had been silent throughout
     the journey, and hadn't bothered to tell the other two
     agents that he knew the victim.  Scully was concerned for
     him. - For a woman he had known only briefly, however
     intimately, he seemed to be taking her death very badly. -
     although she supposed that being told he had spent the night with
     a dead woman could come as a bit of a shock.

     Scully felt sure that if the woman had been dead *before*
     Mulder had met her, he would quite happily have passed off
     his encounter as being with a ghost, - or a succubus, as
     Mulder would probably have called it, - and that would have
     been that. - But the woman had definitely been alive when
     Mulder had first met her.

     Mulder switched the engine off, and Scully removed her
     seat-belt, and got out of the car as he did the same.
     Greeber and Walbrook were already out of their car, and
     ascending the two wooden steps to the bar built in the style of a
     wooden mountain hut.  Walbrook rapped hard on the door as Mulder
     and Scully joined their colleagues.  The main door behind the
     glass outer door opened, and a middle-aged man with a pipe in the
     corner of his mouth, and a small goat-beard looked out.

     "We're closed."  he said shirtily, and started to close the
     door again.

     "FBI."  Walbrook held up his ID badge,  "We need to ask you
     a few questions, Mr...?"

     "Rogers."  the man completed absently, squinting slightly to get
     a good look at Walbrook's ID through the dirty glass of the outer
     door.  Lifting one hand to take the pipe from his mouth, he
     opened the glass door to let the four agents enter the bar.

     Scully looked around at the sort of place Mulder liked to
     spend his evenings and pick up unattached women.  The wooden
     tables were round, their surfaces marked with long years of
     glasses being placed on them, and cigarettes being stubbed out on
     them.  The whole room was dim, with only a few small windows,
     covered over with net, and oil lamps to light it. Posters for old
     films covered the walls, growing faded and tatty at the edges.

     Scully refocused her attention on what was going on.  Rogers had
     retreated to the bar again, where he had apparently been cleaning
     up after the previous night.  Greeber and Walbrook had followed
     him, and Mulder was a little way behind them, apparently feeling
     a little nostalgic for the previous night as he gazed around the
     room.  Scully joined the three men near the bar.

     Greeber produced a photograph from his pocket, - one of the
     polaroids which had been taken at the scene, as the main
     scene-of-crime photos hadn't been developed yet. - It showed the
     dead woman's head and shoulders.

     "We just want to ask a couple of questions, Mr Rogers."
     Greeber said, and passed the photograph to the bar owner,
     "Have you seen this woman before?"

     Rogers took the photograph, and looked at it.  Then he
     looked up, a slight frown on his face, and nodded.

     "Yeah."  His tone showed the confusion on his face.

     "When?"

     "Last night."  Again, Rogers' tone indicated surprise and
     confusion at the question,  "She came in her about 5.30pm
     with one of the regulars. - I hadn't seen her before. - She
     and the lad she was with had an argument, and he stormed
     out."

     "So she left alone?"

     "No."  Rogers frowned again, and nodded towards Mulder,
     "She left with him."

     Greeber and Walbrook glanced at Mulder in surprise, and
     something like anger crossed Greeber's face.  Mulder saw the
     expression, and groaned inwardly.  Walbrook tried to regain his
     composure.

     "Umm... did you see anyone at all suspicious hanging around
     last night?  Anyone who left shortly after the girl?"

     Rogers shook his head.  "Not that I noticed, but then they
     didn't leave until closing time."

     Greeber nodded.  "Okay, thank you, Mr Rogers. - We'll get
     back to you if we need to ask you anything else."  His anger
     showed through slightly in his voice, and as he turned away from
     the bar owner, he glared at Mulder.  The four agents moved to the
     door, and went outside.

     "What the hell is going on, Mulder?"  Greeber demanded as
     soon as the door had closed behind them,  "Why didn't you
     tell us you knew who the victim was?"

     "I did tell Agent Scully."  Mulder defended himself.  Scully
     nodded in agreement.  "There wasn't time to tell you, - we were
     in a hurry to get here."

     "But we didn't need to come here, - if you left the bar with her
     at closing time, you must have been the last person to see her! -
     She died only half an hour after the bar closed."

     "Last but one person to see her."  Mulder corrected,  "The
     last person was the one who killed her."

     Greeber shrugged non-committally, and then tried a new line. "So
     how come you left together?"

     "We got talking after her date ditched her. - She didn't
     have a ride home.  After a couple of hours talking, we were
     getting on very well.  When Rogers announced closing time, I
     invited her back to my place.  We left, and walked down the
     woodland track to my car."

     "So how come she didn't go back with you? - Or do I need to
     ask?"  Walbrook asked. - The inference in his addition was
     obvious.  Mulder hesitated for a moment, and then admitted.

     "She did come back with me. - I drove us back to my
     apartment."

     "But you couldn't have. - She was dead at 11.30pm, and she
     was killed here."  Walbrook countered.  Mulder shrugged.

     "I know, but all the same, we spent the remainder of the
     evening at my apartment, went to sleep at about 2am, and
     when I woke up this morning, she was gone."

     "Well I'm not surprised, she was here. - And you'd dreamed
     the whole thing in some alcohol-induced stupor. - As if a
     girl that attractive would need some weird jerk like you,
     anyway."  Greeber said cuttingly.  Mulder bristled with
     anger, but said nothing, merely shaking his head.

     "So how much did you have last night, Mulder?"  Walbrook
     asked.

     "Three alcohol-free beers."  Mulder replied, and he met
     Walbrook's gaze, and held it.  "I wasn't drunk."

     "You wouldn't need to be, - you can hallucinate well enough
     without it."  Greeber remarked in an undertone,  "That's why you
     keep seeing little green men."

     "Grey."  Mulder contradicted, also in an undertone.  Scully
     elbowed him to keep quiet as Greeber looked up in confusion.

     "Look, there's obviously something strange going on here."
     Scully said,  "Perhaps if we wait until I've had a chance to
     properly post-mortem the body, and can determine exactly what
     happened prior to death. - Then we'll be working with something
     slightly more definite."

     "Okay."  Greeber agreed grudgingly, and then glared at
     Mulder,  "Just as long as you're not planning on leaving the
     state, Mulder."  With that he turned on his heel, and stalked off
     towards his car.  Mulder stared after him as Walbrook followed
     his partner, and Scully looked at her partner in concern.

     "Come on."  she said,  "Let's get back to Washington, and
     sort this out."
 

                                  Part 2/4

                       *          *          *

     Scully entered the morgue, and her eyes moved to the
     sheet-covered figure lying on the stainless steel autopsy
     bench in the centre of the room.  As the swing doors closed
     behind her, she moved to the sink, and started to scrub her
     hands and arms.

     The morgue was a cold room, with white tiles on the walls,
     and stainless steel sheet on the floor, curving up to meet
     the tiles without leaving any corners.  The smell of strong
     disinfectant permeated the air, and infused everything in
     the room.  Trolleys of instruments stood waiting around the
     room, their impressive array of clamps, saws, and knives
     like the artifacts of a medieval torture chamber.  Along one wall
     were the heads of the stainless steel refrigerated drawers where
     the bodies were kept before and after the autopsies.

     Scully pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, washed her hands
     again, and then turned to face the corpse in the centre of
     the room.  She moved towards it, lifted back the sheet at
     the head to expose the head and shoulders of the young
     woman, and then moved to the feet to check the toe-tag on
     her left foot.  Reaching up, she switched on the overhead
     light, and the microphone that would record her observations as
     she worked.

     "Preliminary examination, carried out by Special Agent Dana
     Scully, at 11.21am, on the 9th of November, 1996.  Case
     number PR-2100-67837.  Investigating agents are Special
     Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, and Agents Greeber and
     Walbrook.  Victim identified as Tracey Hilton, aged 29."

     Scully moved around the body with a tape measure, recording
     her measurements as she did.

     "Victim is a Caucasian female, five foot eight in length,
     brown hair and eyes.  She has a mole on her left shoulder,
     and a small birthmark on her lower right leg, but no other
     distinguishing marks.  The body shows some bruising and
     abrasion around the neck, consistent with strangulation, and
     there is no other visual cause of death.  There are no marks on
     the wrists as would have been consistent with a struggle,
     suggesting that the attack, when it occurred, was over very
     quickly.  However the body does show signs of recent sexual
     intercourse."

     Scully picked up a long pair of tweezers, and a small mirror from
     the tray at the side of the autopsy bench.  Leaning over the
     body, she examined it carefully for any clues about what had
     taken place in the woods.  Holding the mirror between the
     corpse's legs, she frowned.

     "Although the tissue lining the vagina is torn, suggesting
     recent and somewhat violent intercourse, there is very
     little bleeding, suggesting that intercourse took place
     *after* death had occurred."  Scully tried not to think to
     hard about the implications of what she was saying as she
     removed a small piece of a dead leaf from the body with her
     tweezers, and put it into a glass bottle.  "There are
     particles of dirt and plant material within the vagina,
     strongly suggesting that intercourse took place in the woods
     where the body was found.  The evidence at the scene also
     suggested that the victim was killed in the place where she was
     later found."

     Scully took a deep breath as she turned away, and picked up
     a scalpel from the tray at her side.  She wondered briefly
     what her partner was doing with himself, - she had left him
     in the basement office on their return to Washington. - He
     had barely spoken all the way back from Great Falls Park,
     although what had been going through his mind she couldn't
     imagine.

     Turning back to the body, Scully began making the Y-shaped
     incision that would open up the thorax.

                       *          *          *

     Scully opened the door of the Assistant Director's office,
     and went inside ahead of the three agents with her.  Mulder
     was immediately behind her, and behind him came Agents
     Greeber and Stanton, who since the autopsy had started
     treating Mulder as a suspect for the crime they were
     investigating.  The Assistant Director looked up in surprise to
     see so many visitors, and put down the pen he had been working
     with.

     Scully stopped by the desk, and turned back to glare at
     Greeber and Walbrook, her arms crossed across her chest. -
     She just couldn't believe they were suspecting Mulder of
     committing the crime, which was coming to look more gruesome by
     the minute.

     "Good afternoon, agents."  Skinner said, a slight frown on
     his face,  "I doubt you can have solved your case already?"

     "No, sir."  Walbrook replied testily, and glared at Mulder,
     who shrugged and sat down, as no-one else seemed to be
     interested in the two chairs in front of Skinner's desk.
     The whole affair was beginning to bore him now, despite the
     fact that he hadn't yet managed to come up with an
     explanation for how he had started the previous evening with a
     woman who had been very much alive, and apparently finished it
     with her ghost.

     "So what's the reason for this?"  Skinner enquired.

     "We've run into... complications."  Walbrook said cagily.

     "Huh!"  Greeber grunted behind his partner.  Mulder raised
     an eyebrow, but said nothing.  Skinner frowned.

     "Would someone care to explain to me what's going on here? -
     Agent Scully?"  Skinner turned towards the smallest agent,
     knowing her to normally be the most sensible of the four.

     "Sir, when we arrived at the crime scene this morning, Agent
     Mulder identified the body, - a young woman by the name of Tracey
     Hilton."

     "You knew the victim, Agent Mulder?"  Skinner asked,
     surprised.

     "On a short-term basis, sir."  Mulder replied.

     "Very short-term."  Greeber snarled.

     "Umm... Agent Mulder met the victim at a bar about twenty
     minutes walk from where the body was found, last night."
     Scully continued, trying to find words to describe just what she
     gathered had happened between her partner and the woman. "They
     left the bar together at closing time, - about 11.05pm, - and
     walked back along a woodland track to Agent Mulder's car, parked
     about a half-hour away.  Agent Mulder drove them to his
     apartment, where the woman stayed the night, except that she was
     gone when he awoke this morning."

     "Am I to understand by this that you were intimate with the
     victim last night, Agent Mulder?"  Skinner turned to
     Scully's partner.  Mulder nodded.

     "It was more this morning, than last night."  he muttered,
     and seeing the look on Skinner's face, explained,  "We
     didn't go to sleep until 2am."

     "However,"  Scully continued,  "when I post-mortemed the
     body, I ascertained that the woman died at about 11.30pm
     last night, certainly no later than midnight.  She was found a
     short distance from the track she and Agent Mulder had walked
     along on their way to his car, at a point consistent with where
     they would have been at the time she died. - In other words,
     Agent Mulder and the victim passed the place where she was
     killed, at the time she was killed, and proceeded on to his
     apartment."

     Skinner raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Mulder, before
     returning his concentration to Scully.

     "The woman was killed by strangulation, and the profile we
     were given was that the killer was probably male, in his
     mid-thirties, of average to above-average height, and
     reasonably fit."

     "And guess who that fits."  Greeber muttered,  "It's so
     consistent it's *spooky*."

     Mulder's face went suddenly impassive, and Scully recognised the
     reaction as meaning Greeber had struck a nerve.  She quickly
     continued with her narration.

     "The body wasn't moved from the place where the murder
     occurred, and during my autopsy I discovered that what we
     previously believed to have been mutually consenting sexual
     intercourse at some point not long prior to death, was
     almost certainly actually intercourse taking place in the
     woods where the body was found, *after* death."

     Mulder's head snapped round to look up at his partner, and
     Greeber and Walbrook stared at her as well. - She hadn't
     informed them of this particular twist in the crime when she had
     completed her autopsy.

     "Agent Scully, - you're saying that the killer raped the
     victim in the woods *after* killing her?"  Skinner asked.
     She nodded.  "You're sure about that?"

     "Yes, sir. - The physical evidence was quite conclusive."

     Skinner looked down at the papers in front of him for a
     moment while his mind processed the horrible information he
     had just been given.  Then he looked up at the agents again.

     "So, as I understand it, Agent Mulder says he spent the
     night with a woman who was being murdered at the time he was
     passing the place where she was murdered.  We have a woman who
     was raped after being murdered.  And Agent Mulder... - I assume
     the two of you were intimate in the fullest sense of the word?"

     Mulder had the decency to flush slightly.  "Yes, sir."

     "And Mr Rogers, the bar owner."  Walbrook added,  "He claims to
     have seen Agent Mulder leaving the bar with the victim at
     11.05pm."

     "Well, at least there's one thing we all agree on."  Skinner
     said.  He glanced at Mulder,  "There seem to be too many
     over-lapping facts here.  Either Agent Scully's autopsy results
     are wrong, or Agent Mulder isn't telling the whole truth about
     what occurred between him and the victim, or we're missing
     something vitally important."

     "A time warp?"  Mulder muttered. - Even in his position, he
     was perfectly aware of how ludicrous the facts were, and he
     was surprised that Skinner was taking it so well. - If
     Greeber had had his say, Mulder was sure he'd have been
     charged with murder by now.

     "Memories are very subjective things."  Skinner continued,
     looking at Mulder again,  "So many things pass us by as they seem
     totally innocuous at the time. - Perhaps if we could know every
     little detail of what went on in the woods at Great Falls Park
     last night, we'd find the vital link we're missing."

     "What are you saying, sir?"  Mulder asked calmly.

     "Agent Mulder, I'd like you to undergo regression hypnosis,
     to see if you remember anything other than what you've
     already told us from last night."

     "Sir, is that really necessary?"  Scully interrupted,
     "After all, Agent Mulder has a photographic memory..."

     "Still, people sometimes shut out things they don't want to
     remember."  Skinner answered.

     "It's okay, Scully."  Mulder told his partner,  "I've done
     it before."

     Indeed he had, when he had been trying to recover his
     memories of his sister's abduction. - And Scully knew how
     much those memories had damaged him.  She didn't want it
     happening again.
 

                                Part 3/4

                       *          *          *

     Mulder entered Dr. Heitz Werber's office slightly ahead of
     his partner.  Greeber and Walbrook were waiting for him
     outside. - They had been unwilling to let him go in without
     them, but had eventually had to back down to the conditions
     Scully had laid down.

     The office looked pretty much like it had when Mulder had
     last been in.  The dark leather couch and wing-backed chair
     looked like something out of an old movie.  Dr. Werber sat
     at his wooden desk to one side, and he looked up as the
     agents entered, a small smile of greeting on his face.  He
     rose to his feet, and moved around the desk to shake both
     their hands.

     "Agent Mulder, how nice to see you again."  he exclaimed.
     Mulder said nothing. - He had broken off his sessions with
     Werber after recovering his memories of his sister's
     abduction, despite the psychiatrist's belief that he needed
     further counseling.  He was perfectly aware of the very thin
     barrier that was between his conscious and his painful memories.
     - And he didn't want that barrier breached.  "And you must be
     Agent Mulder's partner, Agent Scully."  Werber turned towards
     her,  "Assistant Director Skinner called me and told me you were
     on the way, - although he didn't say what was so urgent?"

     "I need to go over my memories from last night."  Mulder
     replied shortly,  "Skinner wants as much detail as possible
     about everything that happened between 6pm and my waking up
     this morning."

     Werber raised his eyebrows,  "But as I recall, you have a
     photographic memory... - Are you suffering from amnesia?"

     "No."  Mulder said sharply,  "But Skinner wants precise and
     detailed information. - He thinks I may be blocking
     something out."

     Werber shrugged.  "Okay. - Agent Scully, will you be staying for
     the proceedings?"

     "Yes."  Scully replied, knowing that Mulder needed her
     strength as well as his own at the moment.  Werber nodded,
     and moved towards the couch.

     "Would you both like to sit down?"  he said, indicating the
     couch for Mulder.  Scully pulled the chair from Werber's
     desk over to the couch, and sat down.  Werber took the
     wing-backed chair.

     Twenty minutes later Werber turned to Scully, and announced
     that Mulder was in a hypnotic trance.  "He said from 6pm. -
     Do you know what he was doing at that time?"

     "He was at a bar in Great Falls Park."  Scully replied,
     "He'd just arrived, I think."  Werber nodded.

     "Mulder, I want you to think back to last night. - Do you
     remember going to a bar?"

     "Yes..."  Mulder said in the slow drawl of a hypnotic
     trance.

     "Do you remember what time you arrived?"

     "5.50pm, - the sports news had just finished on the radio."
     Mulder replied slowly.

     "Okay, I want you to go back to that time, just as you were
     arriving at the bar.  You're just going inside now. - What
     can you see?"

     Mulder opened his eyes, and looked around him, although he
     didn't focus on anything in the room.

     "Just the bar."  he replied,  "It hasn't changed much since
     I was last here.  There's an old man and two loggers sitting on
     the bar stools, and Al Rogers is behind the bar, talking to the
     old man.  He's looking at me now, looking to see who's coming in.
      I doubt he recognises me, - it's been a while since I was last
     up here."

     "Is the bar busy, Mulder?"

     "Not too bad. - There's a couple of youths by the juke box,
     sharing a cigarette that doesn't look to legal.  There are a few
     people sitting at tables. - A man and his wife, eating sausage
     and chips.  A small group of bikers in their late twenties and
     early thirties eating fried chicken burgers. And a man in glasses
     reading a newspaper which he's laid out on the table."

     "What are you doing now, Mulder?"

     "I'm going up to the bar.  Al asks me what I want.  I order
     an alcohol-free beer. - Got to drive myself home tonight,
     Scully won't be happy if I call her up asking for a lift at
     midnight."

     Scully smiled slightly at this declaration, and crossed her
     left leg over her right.

     "Al brings me the glass, and I pay for it.  Now I'm going to a
     table in the corner, where I've got a decent view of what's going
     on.  It's not too far from the bar, either." Mulder turned his
     head slightly, and looked into the distance.  "There's an
     argument going on amongst the bikers. One guy is yelling, and the
     woman with him is crying, and trying not to show it.  He's got up
     from his seat, and is going to the door.  She turns away from him
     as he goes out, and I can see the hurt in her eyes.  She goes to
     the bar, and orders another coke.  Al brings it to her, and she
     sits down on a stool at the bar.  The other bikers are getting to
     their feet now, and are leaving.  She doesn't even look around as
     they go, although she must hear them. - I hope she's got a way to
     get home now, if she came with them."

     "Do you find the woman attractive, Mulder?"  Werber asked,
     perceptively picking up on the tone of Mulder's voice.

     "Umm... she *looks* quite attractive."  Mulder replied
     slowly,  "But I doubt from what I've seen of her so far that
     she'd anywhere near match up to some of the women I know."

     "What do you mean, "match up to"?"

     "The attraction's only on the surface.  She's pretty, but I
     want more than that."

     "What sort of woman *do* you want, Mulder?"  Werber asked.

     "I'd like her to be pretty, but I'm more interested in
     someone intellectually drop-dead gorgeous than physically
     so."  Scully raised an eyebrow at this statement.

     "Do you approach the woman at the bar?"

     "Yes. - When I finish my drink, and go to the bar to get
     another one, I stand quite close to her.  While Al is busy
     getting the drink, I mention that I saw her date leaving,
     and ask if she's got a lift home.  She nods and says she'll
     be alright, but I get the impression she's just a little
     wary of me.  I return to my table without saying anything
     else, and a couple of minutes later she comes over to me."

     "Why does she come to you?"

     "She says she's sorry she was rude at the bar, but she
     thought I was trying to hit on her.  She's sitting down at
     my table, and she says that she'll probably call one of her
     friends to come and pick her up later.  She says her name is
     Tracey."

     "Do you talk to Tracey for long?"

     "Until Al calls closing time."

     "And how do you get on together?"

     "Very well. - I think she's attracted to me too, although I
     think we both know it's only a sexual thing."

     "What happens at closing time?"

     "Al calls out from behind the bar that last orders are over. I
     ask Tracey if she wants a lift home, or if she wants to come back
     to my apartment."

     "You feel comfortable asking her that?"

     "Yes."

     "And what does Tracey say?"

     "She says she'll come back to mine.  We finish our drinks,
     and leave to walk to my car.  We walk along the woodland
     track through Great Falls Park. - I left my car about a half
     hour's walk from the bar."

     Scully put one hand on Werber's arm, warning him not to rush
     through this time.  He looked around at her and understood, -
     this was what was important.

     "Do you talk while you walk with Tracey?"  he asked Mulder. The
     agent nodded slightly.

     "We carry on talking like we were in the bar."  he replied.

     "And what do you talk about?"

     "Her memories of coming to the park as a child, and having
     picnics with her parents."  Mulder answered.

     "Do you see anyone as you walk to your car?"

     "No."  Mulder answered,  "There's no-one about here at all."

     "Do you notice anything unusual as you walk?"

     "No. - It looks pretty much as it did last time I walked
     down here."

     "Okay, what's happening now?"

     "We're about ten minutes walk from my car.  I haven't seen
     any sign of anyone since we left the bar. - No-one's
     followed us, and no-one even realises where we've gone.  I
     put my hand on Tracey's arm, stopping her.  She's turning
     towards me, an expression of concern on her face.  I pull
     her towards me, and she puts her hands against my chest,
     trying to push away.  I'm stronger than she is though.  I
     kiss her, and...

     "Owww!!! - She bit me!"  Mulder exclaimed, one hand rising
     to cover his "injured" mouth.  "You bitch! - You'll pay for
     that!"

     "What's happening, Mulder?"  Werber asked.

     "I've pushed her to the ground, and I'm kneeling over her,
     my hands around her neck.  I'm looking right into her face,
     and I can see her terror as I crush her neck with my hands. She's
     afraid of me. - She's wishing she hadn't agreed to come out of
     the bar with me now, the stupid bitch. - Her eyes are watering,
     but she's barely blinking, her eyes fixed on me.  Now they're
     starting to lose their focus.

     "I can feel her pulse in her neck beneath my hands.  It's
     growing weaker now.  Fading.  She's not struggling any more.
     There, her heart's stopped.  She's gone, and good riddance. Now
     she'll have to give me what I want."

     Scully lifted her hand to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide at
     what Mulder was relating.  Surely what he was saying couldn't be
     true?  Surely in a minute he would sit up and laugh and say he
     hadn't really been hypnotised at all, he had just been playing
     games because he was angry with Skinner for not believing his
     story completely.

     But it didn't happen.  After a few moments in order to
     recollect himself, Werber spoke to Mulder again.

     "What are you doing now, Mulder?"

     "Stripping the bitch."  came the immediate reply.  Scully
     blanched.  "Going to get what I came for."

     "Tell me exactly what you're doing."  Werber said, and
     Scully heard a slight tremor in his voice, and guessed that
     the psychiatrist really didn't want to know any more about
     what Mulder had done. - But she had a pretty good idea what
     was coming.

     "I'm pulling her jeans off. - Damn tight things won't come
     past her shoes. - There, that's done it.  Now her panties.
     That's better. - She'll give me what I want now.  Better
     this way anyway. - Don't have to worry about keeping her
     happy while I'm having a good time.  All the fun and none of the
     pressure of trying to keep the relationship going. - Who knows,
     if no-one finds her I could even come back tomorrow for seconds.
     - A steady relationship, if you like.  Ha-ha."

     Scully closed her eyes for a moment, and swallowed
     convulsively, wondering just what it was that was going
     through her partner's mind right now.  He continued with his
     ghastly monologue.

     "Now I'm removing my own jeans."  There was a short pause,
     and then a grunt as in his mind Mulder apparently entered
     the corpse.  Scully couldn't drag her eyes from his face,
     much as she wanted to close them and look away, or make
     Werber stop the session.  In horror she saw that he was
     smiling faintly as in his mind he raped the body.  "She's
     still very warm."  Mulder commented, a tone of disgust in
     his voice,  "Never mind, other people cope."  There were a
     few minutes of silence, punctuated by occasional groans from the
     prone man on the couch.  Then his eyes snapped open again, as he
     apparently finished his deplorable act.

     Werber took a deep breath, steeling himself for the answer. "What
     are you doing now?"

     "Putting my jeans on again."  Mulder replied, as though it
     were the most normal thing in the world,  "Now I'm getting
     up, going back to the track, and heading for my car.  It's
     only about ten minutes away.  I should be home by half past
     twelve."

     "Do you see anyone on your way to the car?"

     "No."

     "And what happens when you reach it?"

     "I get in and drive home.  Then I go to bed."  Mulder
     replied.  Werber looked around at Scully, and she could tell from
     the look on his face that he wanted to wrap this up as quickly as
     possible.  She nodded weakly, still trying to process what she
     had just heard. - How could Mulder possibly be responsible for
     Tracey Hilton's death?  How could he do something as terrible as
     what he had just described?

     "Mulder, I'm going to count to five, and when I reach five
     you will be wide awake, feeling refreshed, and you will
     remember everything. - One, two, three, four, five."

     Mulder opened his eyes again, and stared up at the ceiling
     for a moment.  Then he turned his gaze towards Scully, and
     she saw the horror and pain in his expression.  The monster
     who had been on the couch a moment ago had gone, and now she saw
     only the petrified face of her partner.

     "Scully."  he whispered hoarsely,  "What have I done?"

     Scully held his gaze for a long time before being able to
     formulate an answer to his question.  Finally she shook her
     slowly, and said,

     "I don't know, Mulder. - You must have projected what you
     know about the case onto your memories, and this was the
     result."

     Mulder shook his head,  "But I remember it now, Scully. -
     Clearly.  More clearly than I remembered Tracey coming to my
     apartment, which was always more a knowledge that she had, rather
     than a memory of it, if you know what I mean."

     Scully nodded weakly,  "Mulder, people are always coming up
     with false memories under hypno-regression..."

     "No, Scully. - This was real."  His tone was filled with
     dejected conviction.

     "Mulder, how do you know?"

     "Because it is.  Because it has to be."  he said simply, and then
     lowered his head as he admitted,  "Because I remembered what
     happened to Sam under hypno-regression, and if I can't trust
     those memories, then I've got nothing to live for."

     "Nothing?"  Scully felt a twinge of hurt that he could so
     casually dismiss all the work they had done in the X-files,
     all the work which was normally so important to him.  He met her
     eyes.

     "Nothing except you."  he amended.  Scully's eyebrows rose.
     - It hadn't occurred to her that he hadn't included her in
     his statement. - She reached out to him and took his hand in
     hers, hoping to offer some comfort.  But Mulder's eyes were
     filled with the painful knowledge of what he had remembered
     doing, and he seemed reluctant to make physical contact with her,
     as though his evil could be passed to her through his touch.

     From outside the room, Scully heard the sound of raised
     voices.  Glancing briefly at her partner again with an
     expression of concern on her face, she rose to her feet, and
     moved towards the door to see what all the shouting was about.
     She was halfway across the room when the door burst open, and a
     red-faced Agent Greeber came in, his gun in his hand.  He was
     closely followed by Agent Walbrook, and from the looks on their
     faces Scully knew immediately that they had been watching the
     session from the observation room next door.

     "You're not going to tell me where I can and can't go!"
     Greeber yelled as he stormed in, apparently still raving at
     Werber's secretary who had been refusing to let him enter
     the room while the doctor was in session.  The agent's eyes
     met Scully's, and hers narrowed.

     "Agent Greeber, how dare you storm in here while Mulder is
     in session."  she said in a low voice, standing between the
     angry agent and her partner, who was still lying on Werber's
     couch.

     "I'm going to take that... that animal to Assistant Director
     Skinner,"  Greeber declared, his eyes small and fixed on Mulder.

     "No, you are not."  Scully countered, her voice rising.
     Greeber tried to push her aside, reaching for his handcuffs
     as he did so, which were in a holder just behind his gun
     holster.

     "I don't think you heard me properly."  Scully yelled, and
     shoved Greeber back towards the door,  "Agent Mulder isn't
     going anywhere just yet.  When he's ready, we'll all leave
     together. - Now get out!"

     To emphasise her point Scully reached for her own gun, in a
     holster at her waist.  Greeber finally got the point, and
     unwillingly backed out of the door in the face of Scully's
     anger.  She turned back to look at her partner, and saw his
     eyes cloud over with pain.  For a moment she thought she saw
     tears in his eyes, and then he turned his face away from her to
     hide the emotions he could no longer hide behind his usually
     impassive mask.
 

                                   Part 4/4.

                       *          *          *

     Mulder walked through the main entrance hall of the J. Edgar
     Hoover building, his head lowered in shame.  His hands were
     handcuffed behind him, and in any other circumstances he would
     have felt embarrassed and angry to be publicly humiliated in this
     way, but right now he was in too much stress mentally to worry
     about what other people were thinking.

     Scully was walking at his side, her head up, looking
     confident, her eyes defying anyone to say anything about
     what was happening.  Behind them walked Agents Greeber and
     Walbrook.  Both the agents had their guns trained on Mulder, and
     Walbrook held Mulder's own gun in his left hand, having taken it
     from this distraught man before they left Werber's office.
     Mulder had said nothing when they demanded it.  He hadn't said a
     word, or even made any acknowledgement as Greeber roughly patted
     him down as he looked for other weapons.  Since coming out of the
     hypnosis he had retreated into a small part of his subconsciouss,
     and was quite happy to stay there.

     Scully glanced around briefly at Greeber and Walbrook, and
     glared at them when she saw that they were still blatantly
     keeping their guns on Mulder.  The four had been forced to
     use the main public entrance to the building as the swipe
     card system that operated one of the entry doors at the
     entry most of the agents used was off-line.  It just wasn't
     right that they should be exposing Mulder like this, - why
     didn't they believe that he hadn't been involved?

     Glancing over at her partner, Scully sighed inwardly, - even he
     didn't believe he hadn't been involved. - This was the last thing
     he needed now.  It might well be the final straw which snapped to
     let his sanity crumble.

     They approached the metal-detector arch and security desk
     which monitored who went in and out of the building.  Scully
     smiled at the young security guard there, and showed her
     identification.

     "Good evening, Agent Scully."  the guard nodded, smiling
     back,  "Would you mind putting your weapon in the dish while you
     go through, - it scares off the visitors if the alarm goes off."

     "Sure."  Scully took out her gun, placed it in the dish on
     the security desk, and walked through the detector arch.
     Picking her gun up again, she turned to see Walbrook coming
     through behind her.

     "You'll have to take his handcuffs off."  Walbrook commented to
     his partner, nodding towards Mulder,  "Or it'll set the alarms
     off."

     "Who cares?"  Greeber asked arrogantly,  "So everyone will
     turn and look at the necrophiliac and wonder what's going
     on. - Big deal."

     "Take the cuffs off him, Greeber."  Scully said angrily,
     "Or I'll come back through and do it myself."  From her tone
     Greeber realised that making her do that was definitely not a
     good idea.  Glancing at the security guard again, he nodded in
     unwilling acquiescence, and started to remove the cuffs from
     Mulder's wrists, trying as hard as he could not to come into
     contact at all with Mulder's skin.  Finally the metal rings fell
     free.  Greeber lifted his gun again.

     "Now walk through slowly, and let Walbrook cuff you again." he
     ordered.  He dropped the cuffs in the dish on the counter.  The
     security guard frowned, wondering what was going on, as he
     recognised Mulder to be an FBI agent. Mulder turned to the
     archway, and walked through it.

     The alarm went off.  A shrill beeping sound which cut
     through the air for a few moments until the guard cut it
     off.

     "He must have another weapon on him!"  Greeber yelled to his
     partner on the other side of the archway, although there was no
     need to shout as they were only a few feet away from each other.
     Walbrook trained his gun on Mulder, who was standing passively on
     the other side of the arch.  Greeber dropped his gun in the dish,
     and went through quickly, picking it up again, and training it on
     the agent once more.

     Walbrook moved forward, and patted Mulder down again.  then
     he stepped back, shaking his head.

     "He doesn't have his other gun with him."  Scully said,  "He
     keeps it at his apartment unless we're going away on a case."
     Greeber and Walbrook both looked disbelieving at her words.

     The security guard picked up his metal detector wand, and
     stepped out from behind the security desk.  He ran the wand
     over Mulder, but couldn't find anything metallic on the
     agent.

     "Walk through the arch again."  he instructed.  Mulder
     shrugged, and walked back through the turnstile and then in
     through the arch.  The alarm went off again.  The security
     guard frowned.  "It's always been very sensitive."

     "Yes."  Scully said thoughtfully,  "It has. - Could I borrow the
     wand for a moment?"  She held out her hand to the security guard,
     and he shrugged and handed it to her. Slowly and carefully, she
     ran it over her partner, making sure it covered all of him.  As
     it ran close over the back of his neck, it beeped.  Scully pursed
     her lips, and handed the wand back to the security guard.
     Standing on tip-toe, she pulled the collar of Mulder's grey
     jacket down at the back, and then his shirt.  Looking closely,
     and pressing his skin with her fingers, she found what she was
     looking for, - a small hard lump beneath a tiny red scar.

     "What's that?"  Walbrook asked, looking over Scully's
     shoulder.

     "An implant."  Scully replied.  Mulder turned his head
     sharply to look at her, the first interest he'd showed in
     anything since leaving Werber's office.

     "Like the one you had?"  he asked.

     "I can't tell."  Scully replied,  "But if we go to one of
     the labs I can take it out under a local anaesthetic for
     you, and then we can get it analysed."

     "Wait a second, - he's got to go and see Skinner. - He's
     under arrest for murder."  Greeber protested.

     "This may be why."  Scully said simply, and, putting her
     body between Mulder and Greeber, she pushed her partner
     along in the direction of the lab she wanted to go to.

                       *          *          *

     Half an hour later, Scully lifted the small piece of metal
     from Mulder's neck.  She gazed at it closely, and then
     exclaimed in awe,

     "It *is* a micro-chip!"

     Mulder said nothing, afraid to get his hopes up.  He was
     sitting on a high stool in the corner of the lab where
     Scully was carrying out the minor surgery.  A bright table
     lamp shone down on the back of his neck, and it felt
     slightly warm, although he didn't know if that was just
     psychological as he couldn't feel anything from his neck to
     his elbow except the numb proddings of Scully's
     rubber-gloved fingers.  Across the room from them, Greeber
     and Walbrook were watching the proceedings, unwilling to let
     Mulder out of their sight.

     "I'm going to take it upstairs to Pendrell."  Scully
     announced,  "- I want an analysis of it as soon as possible. -
     You just stay here and wait for the local anaesthetic to wear
     off.  And don't worry.  It'll be alright."  She glanced around
     the lab, and her eyes fell on the small room off to one side
     where the technicians went for coffee.  It had a row of soft
     chairs, which Mulder would be able to lie down on.  She took his
     hand in hers, and pulled him to his feet. "Come in here, and lie
     down for a bit. - Whatever happened last night, you must be
     exhausted."  She smiled as she spoke, to tell him that she knew
     he hadn't killed Tracey. Mulder barely heard her words or noticed
     her expression, however.  He followed her into the room, and lay
     down on the chairs when she urged him to.

     Scully glared at the two agents who had come to stand in the
     doorway to tell them to give him some peace while she was gone.
     Then she hurried out of the room with the micro-chip to go and
     see Pendrell.

     Mulder took a deep breath, and, suddenly realising how tired he
     was, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

                       *          *          *

     Scully pushed open the door to the electronics lab Pendrell
     worked in, and hurried inside.  The young "tekkie" was still at
     his work bench, as always working longer hours than he was really
     supposed to, because he was still too new to have been
     disillusioned with the job.

     Pendrell looked up when he heard the door open, and an eager
     smile spread across his face when he saw who his visitor was.
     Leaping up from the stool where he had been sitting for the last
     four hours, - and quickly regretting it when he realised his left
     leg was completely numb, and he nearly fell over right in front
     of Scully, - he asked,

     "What can I do for you, Agent Scully?"

     "I wondered if you had the time to take a look at this for
     me."  Scully held up the small glass sample tube she had put the
     micro-chip in.  Pendrell glanced at it.

     "Sure I do. - I'll have a look at it now for you, - if you
     don't mind waiting, that is. - I haven't had anyone come in
     here for ages."  Then, apparently realising his innocent
     statement could be taken two ways, he reiterated,  "That is,
     no-one's been in here for a long time,... I..."

     He held his hand out for the tube. - It was easier than
     trying to save himself when every word he said only got him
     in deeper, and Scully was starting to smile in amusement at
     his confusion.  As he accepted the tube he saw her face
     light up in a smile of gratitude, and he could feel his face
     reddening as he turned away from her towards the microscope he
     used for examining micro-chips.  Placing the chip carefully on
     the platform, he adjusted the height of it until the chip came
     into focus on the screen at the side of the microscope.  He
     looked at it closely.

     "Wow..."  he muttered, Scully almost forgotten for a moment
     as he looked closely at the image.  After a moment's
     silence, Scully broke into his thoughts.

     "What is it?"  she asked.

     "Umm... Agent Scully, this chip is years ahead of current
     technology. - I didn't think we could produce anything like
     this yet."

     "But it is man-made?"

     "Yes."  Pendrell agreed,  "Not like that chip you found in
     your neck last year. - It looks like some sort of memory
     chip, but there's something about it that's not right. -
     It's like it's set up to send, instead of to store.  It's
     extremely complex.  Like a whole virtual reality program
     scaled down onto one little chip."

     "Virtual reality?"  Scully asked, one eyebrow raised.
     Pendrell nodded.  "Agent Pendrell, if this chip were part of a
     computer, what would it do?"

     "Well, I guess it would transfer whatever's been encoded on
     it onto the memory of the computer."

     "Like a computer disk?"  Scully enquired.  Pendrell nodded.

     "Sort of. - A highly advanced one."

     "And if it was implanted into a human being?"

     "What? - You've been pulling micro-chips out of yourself
     again, Agent Scully?"  Pendrell laughed, thinking she was
     joking.  Then he saw the serious expression on her face.
     "Umm... I guess it would impose whatever's been encoded on
     it onto the mind of the individual."  he replied.  Scully's
     eyes lit up with an undefined possibility, and she smiled
     suddenly, and picked the chip up from the platform,
     returning it to it's bottle.

     "Thank you, Agent Pendrell."  she said, and then turned and
     hurried from the lab.

                       *          *          *

     When Scully arrived back at the lab downstairs where she had left
     Mulder, she found him sitting up on the chairs where she had left
     him lying.  An expression of surprise adorned his face, and he
     looked up at her as she came in.

     "Mulder?"  Scully asked, sensing something had changed.  She
     glanced at Greeber and Walbrook, who had taken seats opposite
     Mulder, but they both shrugged in response to her unasked
     question.

     "Scully, I... I'm remembering something else now."

     Scully nodded.  She had been hoping ever since she left
     Pendrell that this would be the case.  If the chip really
     had been imposing it's memory onto Mulder's, then hopefully
     it's removal would restore the true memories to his mind.

     "What are you remembering, Mulder?"  she asked, and
     belatedly hoped that it was not some new variation on the
     story he had told in Werber's office.  However, one look at
     his face told her that it was a good memory.

     "I remember talking to Tracey at the bar.  When I asked her
     again at closing time if she had a lift, she said no, so I
     gave her my phone to call a taxi-cab, and offered her some
     money for the fare.  She didn't want to take it, but
     eventually she did. - I didn't invite her back to my
     apartment.  I went outside with her to meet the taxi.  She
     got in, and then I left on my own to walk back to my car.  I
     drove back to my apartment, and went to sleep on the bed for
     once.

     "Then I was woken by three men holding me down.  Two were
     holding my arms, and one my legs, and another gave me a shot of
     something, which I think was sedative.  Then he held what looked
     like a gun at the back of my neck, and I heard a bang.  It hurt
     like anything, and for a moment I thought he'd shot me.  Then I
     guess I fell unconscious.  The next thing I knew I woke up."

     Scully smiled.  "They must have implanted the chip in you
     then. - Pendrell says it's a highly advanced micro-chip,
     which seems to be capable of storing and transferring
     information.  Without me telling him what had happened, he
     said that if it was implanted in a human, he thought it
     would cause the information encoded onto it to be
     transferred to the individual's memory."

     "So I didn't kill Tracey?"  Mulder asked, thankfully.
     Scully shook her head.

     "No, you didn't."  she smiled.

     "So we've explained my memories of murdering her. - But why
     did I remember her at my apartment at first?"  Mulder asked.
     Scully shrugged.

     "I don't know, Mulder. - Possibly a side-effect from the
     chip. - But with your twisted mind, who knows?"   Mulder
     grinned for what felt like the first time in weeks, and
     looked over at the two agents watching him.

     "Do you think there's any chance they'll let me go before we
     catch the real killer and make him confess?"  he asked his
     partner.  Scully glanced over in the direction he was looking.

     "No way."  she smiled.  Turning back to her partner, her
     eyes met his, and her hand searched out his.  She squeezed
     it reassuringly, and he squeezed back.

     Now all they had to do was convince Skinner.
 

                            The End.

I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from
fellow X-Philes.  Email me at <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.