Jess Archibald
larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca
 

Date: 6 Mar 1996 21:04:28 GMT

Hi once again from Vancouver, folks.  No, this isn't Conspiracy . . .
it's the lead in.  It's also a relationship piece.

This one's for Char, Karen, and most of the membership of M&S for writing
such great stuff and for coaxing me into trying something like this.
I give it a rating of AAA for lots of angst.  I've been told that it's
almost heart attack inducing so be careful.

DISCLAIMER: Character copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 Poductions.
Story, characters of Zoe Bateman and Doug Shelton belong to me.  The
author is not responsible for any medical expenses incurred while reading
this story.  *grin*  You're on your own.
 

~~~

T h e  X - F i l e s

DEDUCTIVE REASONING
  by Jess Archibald

South Washington, D.C.
4:03 a.m.

 She pulled up along the curb, killing the engine as she did,
letting the car glide to a halt in front of the building.  It seemed
she'd been following him for hours, impatient with the slow process of
justice and horrified at the prospect of a lengthy delay.  This man had
to be taken off the streets.  Now.  Before he killed again.
 He ducked into the front entrance to the building, shutting the
door behind him.  What would he be doing at a dockside building at this hour?
 She got out fo the vehicle and made her way to the door, slowly
covering the distance, drawing out the gun as she went.  The front door
wasn't locked and it opened at the slightest pressure with the faintest
of squeaking noises.  Holding her breath, she listened for signs that he
had heard her trying to get in, but all was silent.  She eased inside,
waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, wishing she'd brought a
flashlight with her from the car.
  The faint rushing of displaced air off to her left was the only
warning she had as something whistled towards her head.  She raised her
right arm to deflect whatever it was and a heavy metal bar came down on
her forearm.  A yelp of pain tore from her throat and the gun dropped to
the floor.  By this time her eyes had adjusted enough for her to see the
man facing her, taking in his large frame and angry look as he swung
the bar at her again.  She droped under the blow, scrambling around for
her gun, hands flying over the floor, coming up with only dust.
 The bar came again, this time catching the side of her head with
a glancing blow that knocked her flat to the found, as he loomed over
her.  She raised her good arm to ward off the next blow, pulling at the
pockets of her coat until her wallet fell out.  He scooped it up as she
kicked him in the knee, bringing him down as she rolled out from under
him, still searching for the gun.  With a growl, he threw the bar at
her, hitting her across the chest with enough force to spin her around.
She hit the floor face first and the gun was mere inches away from her
face.  Reaching towards it, she could see him out of the corner of her
eye, squinting at her ID in the dim lighting of the predawn hour.
Whatever he saw made him smile and his hand came out of his pocket with a
knife.
 The numb fingers of her right hand wrapped around the butt of the
gun and she rolled onto her back, bringing it around to bear on him, even
though he was impossibly close, the gun going off even as he brought the
knife down into her stomach.
   Their screams mingled in the stillness of the morning.

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

Residence of Fox Mulder
4:51 a.m.

 Fox Mulder heard the pounding on his door and dragged a hand over
his eyes.  It wasn't even dawn yet and he thought that whoever it was at
his door should at least have the manners to wait for a little while
longer.  It was all right for him to go knocking on doors in the middle
of the night, but he expected a little more respect for himself.
 "Mulder!" came a voice muffled by the wooden door.  "Mulder, open this
goddamned door before I kick it in!"
 Not precisely the female voice that he would have dreamed about
hearing, but it would have to do since he entertained no doubts that she
really meant it.
 Getting off the couch, he crossed to the door and unlocked it,
pulling it open just as the woman outside raised her fist to pound on it
again.
 "What's going  on?" he asked in a puzzled tone as she shouldered
him aside to stalk into his living room.
 "What the hell have you been doing?" she asked in a shrill tone.
"Sleeping?"
 "That's what most people do in the night," he replied calmly.
 "Yeah, well someone forgot to let Dana in on that little tip."
Zoe Bateman swung around to face him, hands on hips, anger and fear
flashing across her features.
 "Whoa.  Back up a second.  What's going on?"
 "Dana went after your suspect.  Alone."
 "She *what*!?!  A knife wielding nutcase with a probable history
of mental illness who's wanted in connection with at least four violent
deaths and you're telling me Dana *Scully* went after him by *herself*!?"
 She nodded.  "Don't look at me that way, I'm not the one who went
after him."
 Mulder started scrambling around for some clean clothes to put
on.  "We've got to find him before she does."
 "Mulder."
 "Why didn't you page me or something?"  He grabbed up a shirt and
tie, starting to head for the bathroom to change.
 "Mulder!"
 He turned back to her and this time saw something on her face he
didn't want to acknowledge.
 "Mulder, the D.C. police found her car twnety minutes ago.  It's
been abandoned . . . "

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

J. Edgar Hoover Building
5:16 a.m.

 Mulder stood in the middle of his office, staring across the room
to the gruesome display of murder victims.  Two men and two women.  All
young.  All dead.  The first death had been that of twenty-nine year old
Kelly Jane Winters, a dancer in the touring company of *Cats*.  Next came
Dale Kevin Micheals, twenty-six, a graduate student at the local
university.  Then Sarah Karla Pritchard, thirty, a wife and mother to a
young boy.  And then it was Kyle Birley's turn, a twenty-eight year old
who had just sold the rights to his first novel.
 All of them had been stabbed to death by the same individual and
the only thing that linked them was the letter K that appeared in all
their names.  If he stuck true to from, the killer's next target would be
a woman.
 Dana Katherine Scully . . .
 Why did she had to try and go after their suspect on her own?
They didn't have enough to charge him yet and Mulder was certain with a
little more digging they would have him.  No one was watching the man
since Skinner wasn't yet convinced they had the right man.
 But Scully hadn't wanted to wait, not willing to risk him killing
again, accusing Mulder of dragging the investiagtion out because he
wanted to really nail those arrogant bastards in VCS by handing them a
court worthy case on a silver platter with his name engraved on it for
all to see his ownership.  He had responded in kind, leading to another
shouting match that could be heard halfway down the hall leading to their
office.  The argument had ended with Mulder throwing up his hands in
surrender, saying they could get a warrant first thing in the morning
since it was already after ten o'clock at night and *he* didn't want to
be the one to wake up some judge with the rather flimsy circumstantial
evidence that they had.  She had glared at him, but finally nodded,
grabbing her coat and saying she'd meet him at the court house at eight
o'clock the following morning.  Not once did she mention the little fact
that she was going to go after their suspect on her own in the middle of
the night.
 Saul Eldwin was their most promising suspect.  He had been seen
by Kyle Birley's roommate as he came home the night of the murder.
Apparnetly Eldwin had been leaving the building as the roommate walked
up.  No one in the apartment complex had ever seen him before, but a
sketch of the suspect had yielded a name after it had been circulated
around the Cureau and the local police.  Eldwin had a record for minor
offenses like theft and narcotics possession and one fo the officers had
recognized the man's face from the drawing one morning at roll call.
 Mulder had taken the case as a favour to an old friend in the
Violent Crims Section but had nearly been frozen out the first few days
of the investigation by some of the other agents.  Scully had risen to
his defense by calling the worst offenders on some of their comments and
none of them had wanted to get in an argument with Mulder's partner.  He
had tried not to take offense at the notion that he needed defending, but
it was hard on his ego and his temper.  Working relations between the
X-Files agents had been at an all time low in recent months but last
night's argument had been the last straw for Mulder who had stormed out
of the office without a second thought to his partner.
 He wasn't sure who he was more angry with right now, Scully or
himself.   Bateman wasn't helping since she kept throwing him looks that
were a cross between sympathy and anger as she drove him to the office,
refusing to let him drive, afraid he'd wrap himself around a tree the way
he felt at the moment.  Right now, Skinner was holding court in his
office while Mulder stood staring at his office walls.  He had been told
to stay the hell away from the investigation as had Bateman and her
partner Sheltong.  If Mulder was any judge, those two were probably
already htting the streets to conduct an unoffical canvass of the area
where Scully's car had been found.  The vehicle had already been dusted
for prints, coming up negative for any, not even Scully's so it had been
concluded that someone had wiped it down before leaving it in the parking
lot adjacent to a construction site on the northen side of the city.
There were some blood stains on the material in the driver's side that
were being typed by the Bureau labs even as Mulder paced his office.  The
car had been discovered by a patrolman who ran the plates when he found
it in the empty lot in the small hours of the morning.
 Mulder stopped pacing in front of his desk and picked up a stone
paperweight, throwing it against the far wall with an angry sound.  It
hit hard, creating a dent in the plaster before falling onto the floow
with a bang.
 He didn't feel any better for it.
 "Dammit, Scully," he whispered, starring again at the photos on
the wall in front of him, this time seeing a different face instead of
the victims.
 So far none of the victims had been moved from the scene of the
inital attack.  Either Scully had run a foul of someone else or something
she did had cause the killer to change his pattern.  And sometimes
patterns were all they had to go on.  An APB had been put out on Saul
Eldwin but so far no one had seen him.  He wasn't at home and he didn't
start work at his office until nine o'clock.  That was almost four hours
from now and if Scully wasn't dead already she almost certainly would be
by then.
 Suddenly, Mulder didn't feel so well and he sat down behind his
desk, reaching for the file with one hand.  Maybe he could find something
that would give him a clue where to look.  Regardless of Skinner's
orders, there was no way he could just sit there and wait for someone
else to find his partner.
 His cellular rang, startling him and he grabbed for it, saying a
silent prayer as he did so, hoping that it wasn't more bad news.
 "Mulder."
 There was no answer, only the ragged hiss of someone breathing.
 "Mulder," he said again, this time with impatience, one finger
tapping out a steady beat on his desk.  "Is someone there or not?  I
don't have time for this."
 The sound of ragged breathing relented slightly as if someone
was trying to get enough air to speak.
    A cold chill ran through him as he half rose from his seat.
 "Mulder . . . " someone managed finally.  "Don't . . . don't hang
up . . . "  The voice was thick and tired, some of the syllables slurring
into others, but the first word had confirmed his worst guess.  "Please .
. . don't hang up . . . "
 "I won't," he promised, hearing his own voice lurch a little.  "I
won't hang up, Scully."

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

 Skinner looked up in annoyance as someone knocked on the door to
his office.  The other agents in the room looked towards the entrance as
well, wondering who would dare violate their boss' inner sanctum while he
was in the midst of a meeting.  He had his cellular phone pressed
up against his ear and a frantic look in his eyes although his voice
remained calm as he spoke to whomever was on the other end.
 "Agent Mulder," Skinner began, but the other man shot him a look
that stopped the words in his throat.
  "Hang on just a second," Mulder said into the phone.  "I'm not
hanging up . . . I've got to talk to Skinner . . . just hang on, okay?"
He covered the receiver and looked directly at Skinner, ignoring everyone
else in the room.  "Sir, we've got a problem."

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

Location Unknown
5:24 a.m.

 Dana Scully concentrated on her breathing, forcing one deep gasp
out after another, trying to keep from hyperventilating.  Right now, that
was the last thing she needed.  Dimly she could hear Mulder's muffled
voice from her cellular as he spoke to Skinner, coming back on to speak
with her every few seconds to make sure she was still there.
 The edges of her vision kept pooling with sparks of red and
gray, with blackness creeping in from time to time.  One hand was by her
head, having guided the phone close her ear before falling slack onto the
dirty floor.  The other was pressed hard against her stomach and she had
no intention of moving it.  It was the only thing that was keeping the
flow of blood under even the crudest semblance of control.
 "Scully, you still there?' Mulder asked again, his voice suddenly
strong next to her ear.
 "Un . . . unfortunately," she replied, gritting her teeth to keep
her answer from including a cry of pain that would do nobody any good to
hear.
 Mulder picked up on the undercurrent anyway.   "Take it easy,
partner, we're working on it."
 Her eyes  closed for a moment as she made an affirming noise,
flying open as he came back on the line again.  A few moments had passed
and she hadn't bee aware, drifting in and out.
 "Scully!"  Mulder was practically yelling into the phone to get
her attention.  "Dammit, Scully, answer me."
 "I'm here," she responded weakly.
 "You okay?"
 "Been . . . been better."  A spasm of pain ran through her.  "Oh
*God*!"
 "Scully!"  Mulder's voice was alarmed.
 She groaned, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Still . . . still here, Mulder."
 "Okay.  Okay.  Hang on."  he went back to addressing Skinner.
 She looked back up at the ceiling and wondered what it would feel
like to die.

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

Northern Washingion
5:36 a.m.

 Doug Shelton knocked on another door, waiting in the early
morning chill for the occupant to wake up and answer the sound.  On the
walkway leading up to the building, Zoe was speaking rapidly into her
cell phone, gesturing animatedly and raising her voice.  Doug pitied
whoever was on the other end of that call.
 "Who is it?' came the irritated voice of an elderly gentleman.
 "Agent Shelton of the FBI, sir.  I need to ask you a few
questions."  And if his boss found out he was asking 'a few questions'
on a case that wasn't his, he'd be in a lot of trouble.
 "I haven't done anything wrong!" yelled the old man back, falling
into the standard 'if they're at my door they must be after me' syndrome
that plauged so many investigations.
 "I'm not here about you, sir!" Doug called, fighting anger.  Time
was of the essence and he didn't want to waste it arguing with this guy.
"I need to ask you if you saw someone driving a car around here earlier
this morning."
 The door opened a crack and the man looked at him with one blood
shot eye.  "I was asleep until you woke me, young man.  I didn't see anyone."
 "Please, sir, it's important."  Doug tried his best to look
unassuming but if he'd know this old coot would have answered the door
he would have gotten his small, nonthreatening looking partner to handle
this.  If he could have gotten away with it without her killing him for
even suggesting it.
 "I was *asleep*!"
 "Doug!"  Zoe waved frantically at him.
 He dug out a business card and handed it through the crack in the
door to the man.  "Look, if you remember anything at all, call the number
on that card.  A woman's life is at stake, so please, if anything comes
to mind, call me."
 The man took it grudgingly, slamming the door shut as Doug
pivoted and bounded down the porch steps to meet Zoe.  This was the tenth
house they'd tried, working further away from the drop site of Dana's car
than the other agents.
 "Dana's on the phone with Mulder," Zoe said, speaking rapidly.
 "Thank god . . . "
 She shook her head.  "She's been stabbed and can't give an exact
location of where she is."
 "But we can track -- "
 "Cell phone, Doug.  We can't trace her in a city this large."
Zoe's gray eyes were teeming with fear.  "Skinner's recalling all the
agents from here.  Figured we were out here too.  Best Dana can say is she
was following Eldwin to the south side of Washington."
 "Across town?"
 "Yeah.  Dock side."
 "That could take hours to search even with the amount of people
that we have!"
 Zoe started for the car.  "Skinner says that Dana took a knife to
the stomach.  If that's true then she doesn't have hours."
 A sick feeling that had been with him since he'd gotten the call
from the night staff snowballed into a mountain of worry.  "Then let's
get over there."
 "Drop me off at the Hoover Building.  Skinner needs someone to
act as relay between Mulder and the search teams.  I told him I'd do it."
 "Mulder?"
 "He's still on the phone with Dana, trying to keep her conscious
and trying to piece together anything he can that would give us a clue
where to look."

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

Hoover Building
5:43 a.m.

 Skinner had given his office over to Mulder who was sitting at
the conference table, a pad of paper and a pen sitting in front of him.
The older man watched him from behind his desk, barking orders into his
phone.  Right now, Mulder had the heel of his free hand pressed against
his forehead, elbow propped up on the table as he focussed all his
attention on the phone in his hand.
 "Scully, can you tell me anything else about where you are?"  It
was a struggle to keep his voice calm.  Every time he heard the tremor in
Scully's voice it nearly set one off in his as well.  He couldn't let
that happen.  Hearing the fear echoed in his voice wouldn't help her now.
 But it was so hard.
 " . . . No . . . "  Every response he got was delayed by the
fight for air and a steady voice.  "I . . . don't think . . . this is
the  . . . the same building . . . "
 "Why not?"
  "Looks wrong."
 "Okay.  So it's not the same place.  Can you at least tell me
where you were?  It'll give us something to work from.
 "Yeah . . . it was . . . "  There was a pause as she struggled to
piece it together.   Mulder held his  breath involuntarily, willing her
to remember.  "Damn . . . I didn't . . . didn't get the exact address.
Block before . . . before Crescent . . . I think . . . third building."
 "Okay, that's good, Scully.  That's excellent."  He wrote it all
down as fast as he could and then waved the paper at Skinner.  The quick
response of the ex-marine would have been amusing under any other
circumstances, but right now, Mulder failed to see the humor in the
situation.  Skinner took the paper from him and nodded, one hand patting
Muler on the shoulder in a surprsing gesture as the older agent crossed
back to his desk and started in on the phones again.
 Mulder exhaled silently, absently rubbing the bridge of his nose,
squeezing his eyes closed for an instant.  Ever since he answered the
phone, he'd been in constact motion, convinced that it would be a simple
matter to get the address from Scully and have the EMTs sweep in before
another five minutes passed.  It wasn't going to be that simple though.
Scully couldn't give an exact location because she didn't have a clue
where she was.  She couldn't get out to the street and flag down help
because any movement sent enought pain through her to make her cry out.
Mulder knew it took a lot of agony to break through her stoicism and a
part of him was dying with every second that passed.
 "Hey . . .  you . . . you still there?"  Her voice was soft and
ragged, carrying an undertone of exhaustion.
 "I'm right here," he responded instantly, head lifting, eyes
opening.  "How are you doing?"
 "Not . . . not so good."  She sighed, gasped and gulped in a
breath.  "Can't believe I . . . that I was so . . . so *stupid* . . .
rookies know better . . . . "
 He bowed his head, eyes shut again, concentrating on her voice.
"Why'd you do it then?"  He kept his tone even, not forcing her to answer.
 "Not sure . . . not that *you've* ever done . . . done anything
like that . . . "
 He swore he could hear faint humor in her words.  "That's why I
have you around.  To keep me in check."  An expresion half amused, half
anguished, crept over his features.  "I didn't realize I was supposed to
do the same for you."
 "Neither . . . neither did I."  There was a sadness in her voice
that he had never heard there before."
 "Keep hanging on, Scully," he urged.  "We've got at least two dozen
agents out looking now.  I think Skinner's pulled agents off three
different stakeouts and six field assignments.  You've given everyone a
day off -- "
 "For a scavenger's hunt," she whispered.  "One that . . .  that
doesn't necassarily . . . have a happily ever after . . . "
 "Don't -- *don't* -- say that."
 "You always said that I . . . that I was a rotten lair . . . no
sense lying now . . . "
 "Scully . . . "  He pitched his response midway between a
reprimand and an encouragement.  As long as he kept her talking, he kept
her awake.  He was buying time for the searchers to move into high gear.
A growing part of him admitted he was doing it for more than that
though.  There was so much left unsaid between them and it might be the
last chance he had to say it . . .
 Years of iron control squashed that thought right where it was,
but a tiny part wriggled loose and hung teasinly at the edge of his thoughts.
 His eyes darted over to Skinner to find the other man watching
him a questioning look behind his glasses.  Mulder shook his head.
 The door to the office opened to admit Bateman and Shelton, who
looked arond the room expectantly, moving in the unspoken way that
partners had, covering each other's backs instinctively, not even having
to think about it.
 Like Mulder and Scully did . . .
 He covered the receiver for a second to clear the lump from his
throat.  Bateman's eyes darted over to him and softened slightly.  He
went back to the phone.
 "Bateman and Shelton just walked in.  Now you've done it.
Missing Persons is looking for you.  The city's not big enough to hide
you now."
 "Thank . . . goodness."
 Bateman came over to the confernce table while Shelton conversed
with Skinner.
 "Hi," she said softly.  "Skinner and Doug are heading out to
look.  I'm manning the phones."
 Mulder nodded.  "Hear that, Scully, now Skinner's looking for you."
 "What . . . what about you?"
 The words hit him like a physical blow.  Why wasn't he out searching?
 "Someone's got to keep you company on the phone," he improvised,
mind whirling, scrambling to find the answer, for himself if not for her.
 Shelton and Skinner left the office, the younger agent detouring
long enough to clasp Mulder's shoulder reassuringly and to exchange looks
with his partner.
   Mulder noted them leaving in a detached manner, watching Bateman
move the phone from Skinner's desk to the other side of the table with a
vacant gaze, thoughts still on Scully's question.  He knew why he wasn't
looking.
 He couldn't handle it if he blew it.
 This way, he could sit here and blame the others if they reached
her too late.  he didn't have to be the one to look down  at the body,
knowing that he wasn't fast enough.  It didn't have to be him to make the
indentification.
 But that wasn't all of it.
 Moving would increase the chance that he might loose the phone
signal and if he did, there was no guarantee of getting it back again.
Most of all, he didn't wany anyone else sitting here, talking to her,
perhps -- please, God, no -- perhaps listening to her last words.  It was
his duty.  His . . .
 His right?
 Not something that could be put into simple words.
 Scully accepted his answer, not demanding clarification on the
matter.  He wondered if it was because she believed him or because she
simply didn't have the energy to get into it.  He promised himself that he
would explain it all to her when they found her.
 If they found her . . .
 Bateman rapped a knuckle on the table, demanding his attention.
He looked up sharply and she shook her head at him.  She must have seen
which direction his thoughts were wandering in and she didn't like the
look of it.
 Neither did he.
 "Scully," he said finally, stirring himself.  "I promise you that
we'll find you, okay?  You just have to hang on until then."
 "Mulder . . . don't, okay?  She had to wheeze to catch her
breath.  "No one knows . . .  where I am . . . "
 "We're the FBI remember?  It's our job to find things like this
out."  He tried to find a humourous note in his voice, but was failing
miserably.  "C'mon, Scu -- *Dana*.  you've got to hang on for a little
while longer."
 Bateman's head jerked up in surprise, mouthing, "Dana?" with a
look of shock.
 Mulder ignored her, waving a hand in her direction.  "Can you
try to hang on?"
 He heard Scully draw in a sharp breath, not in pain this time,
but in surprise.  "I'll . . . I'll try . . . "
 He nodded even though she couldn't see him.  "Okay."
 Bateman went back to her phone, chewing out whoever was on the
other end, one finger twisting the cord into a tight knot while her free
hand hovered over a pad of paper.  "Just work on it, Tatem, or you'll
have AD Skinner on your tail."  She stabbed her finger down on the
disconnect button, looking up briefly to meet Mulder's tortured eyes.
"Just keep her talking, Mulder," she said softly.  "We'll take care of the
rest."
 He knew they would try.  He just didn't know if they'd be good
enough.

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

South Washington
6:02 a.m.

 Doug pulled up along side the curb, parking in between two other
Bureau vehicles.  There were agents crawling all around the area and the
only reason anyone paid attention to them was because Skinner was in the
car with him.
 Two agents came up to offer reports.
 "We've searched this whole area, sir," said one, an older man
with penetrating eyes and a scowl on his face.  "There's nothing here."
    "Search it agian," Skinner barked.
 "Sir?"
 "You heard me.  I want this whole area gone over again.  I don't
care if you have to pull more agents in on this.  Just get it done.  One
of these buildings has to have something inside that'll give us an idea.
Scully said it was the third building in from here."  Skinner pivoted,
craning his neck to get a lok at the area.  "Which would put it over
there," he pointed.  "Get five men and search it again.  Shelton and I
will join you."
 The agent nodded.  What else could he say?  He turned away and
started gathering his men.  The second agent cleared his throat to get
Skinner's full attention.
 "Sir, the local police have offered some of their manpower to
help in the search.  Agent Carmicheals turned them down, said to keep it
a Bureau matter, no sense getting anyone else involved in this."  The
younger man looked distinctly uncomfortable.  "I just thought you should
know, sir, since I don't hink he'll tell you."
 Skinner narrowed his eyes.  "And you dont' approve of
Carmicheals' dismissal of outside help, Agent Blythe?"
 "No sir, I don't"  Blythe stood his ground, not looking anywhere
but Skinner's face.
 "Neither do I.  Did you get the anme of the officer who offered
help?"
 "Yes, sir."
 "Call him back.  Tell him we'll take as many people as he can
spare."  Skinner watched the younger man scramble away to find a phone.
"I'm going to have to have a talk with Carmicheals later."
 Doug opened his mouth to volunteer doing it for him, but quickly
shut it again.  Getting angry at Carmicheals, however appealing that
sounded, would have to wait.  The third building was beckoning.
 "Let's go, Shelton, and keep in contact with Bateman."
 "Yes, sir."

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

Location Unknown
6:06 a.m.

 Dana felt her breath rattling in her throat and squeezed her eyes
shut.  Mulder's voice was still next to her ear, trying to talk her
through this whole ordeal, but it wasn't working.  It hurt too much to
allow her to be distracted out of it, stabbing needles of pain running
through her, each one almost as potent as the first stab wound had been.
 "Dana, you can't think about it," he was saying, voice almost
frantic through she knew he was trying to hide it.  The panic in his
voice was as audible to her as her own was when she spoke.
 She regretted putting him through this.  Calling him had been the
only thing she could think off when she'd come to, wracked with pain on
the floor of god only knew what building.  The cellular phone had still
been in her pocket, her ID pouch tossed casually onto the floor next to
her, the laminated cover splashed with blood over her ID photo.  It had
been the first thing she's seen when she'd regained consciousness and it
had startled her into movement before she'd realized her postition.
Trying to move had made her black out again and whe she'd woken up the
second time, she knew better  than to move more than the tiniest amount.
She knew the 911 call wouldn't have helped, not with a cell phone.  She's
called Mulder out of desperation . . . and something else.
 She had wanted to hear his voice, neede to hear the warmth and
reassurance that it carried with it.  These days it was usually raise din
anger or scorning her contibutions in favour of some bizarre notion or
another until she was ready to scream in frustration.  She realized now
it didn't matter.   The petty arguments, the abortive attempts at working
through whatever was driving them apart.  None of it mattered.  She had
turned to him for help, for comfort and he was there, trying his best to
help her even though she'd been treating him with something less than
complete respect.  For that she was grateful and for that she was trying
to hang on.  She couldn't die on him like this.  She knew how his mind
worked and he'd blame himself until the day he died.
 "Mulder . . . " she said suddenly, needing to console him as much
as he was consoling her.  "Mulder . . . this isn't . . . isn't your fault
. . . "
 "If we'd gotten the warrant last night this wouldn't have happened."
 "If I'd stayed . . . stayed *home* . . . this wouldn't have . . .
have happened . . . "
 "God, I wish you *had* stayed home."  The honest regret in his
voice made her eyes suddenly feel damp.
 "Me too," she admitted in a tiny voice.
 "I'll make you a deal, Dana," he saidd.  "If you don't *ever* do
this again, I won't either."
 "Sounds . . . sounds good."  She swallowed with difficulty,
tasting the coppery tang of blood in her mouth.  A shudder ran through
her.  She was bleeding internally and there was no way of telling how bad
it truly was.  "Mulder . . . "
 "Yeah?"
 "I'm scared."  The words were barely above a whisper, and she had
to fight to get them out.  Federal agents were supposed to do their job,
get it done and never express fear.  It cost a lot to admit to fear now,
but there was no denying it.  Her thoughts flashed back to early the year
before, after Pfaster had come within an inch of killing her before
Mulder and an FBI team had moved in at the last second.  She'd broken
down after, weeping from pent up fear and stress.  Mulder had been a
proverbial rock then, saying nothing, merely holding on to her as she
sobbed, waving off the other agents and even the paramedics until she had
cried herself out some twenty minutes later.  That was the only other
time she'd been this scared and even then there hadn't been time for the
full ramifications to wash over her until *after* it was over and Pfaster
was in custody.  This time there was nothing to think about except for
what was going to happen and she was terrified.
 She heard Mulder take in a deep breath and let it go.  "So am
I."  His voice was hoarse with emotion that he usually suppressed,
burying it so deeply that it harldy ever leaked out except as vicious
humour that stung at those around him.  Dana realized that part of the
anger between them the last few months had stemmed from the fact that
they weren't being open with each other about anything, much less their
emotional states.
 Her eyes swept across the ceiling of the room she was in, resting
on the rafters for a moment before skimming down the wall  and across the
floor.  Something caught her attention and made her take a sharp breath
that brought tears of pain to her eyes.
 "Dana?"
 "Mulder . . . he left . . . he left the knife . . . "  She looked
frantically around her, moving as little as possible but felling the need
to get a complete look at the room.  The movement pulled on the wound and
nearly made her curl into a fetal position.
 "Dana!"  Mulder sounded alarmed.
 "Where's . . . where's the gun?" she said half to herself.  "Oh
*dammit*, Mulder!"
 "What is it?  What's wrong?"
 "Eldwin took . . . he took my gun, Mulder."  She let her head sag
back against the ground.  "Dammit."
 "Are you sure?"
 "It's not here . . . "
 "Maybe you droped it where ever he attacked you."
 "No . . . I . . . I shot him . . .  with it . . . " The motion
had left her drained and it was all she could do to speak, eyes closed,
free hand resting lightly against the edge of the cellular.
 "You shot him?"
 "Yeah . .  right as he got . . . as he got me."
 "You didn't tell me that before."  He wasn't accusing for a
change, merely poining out.  He sounded almost excited.
 "I must've . . . must've forgotten . . . " Her voice was slurring
again.  "I'm . . . I'm sorry . . . "
 "Dana, I need you to listen to me, this is important.  How badly
was he hurt?"
 "I . . . don't . . . don't know . . . "  She tried to picture the
scene again, but every time she did, she saw the knife descending and
felt the impact as it ripped into her.  The memory of the gun going off
was still there though.  She'd felt the sudden spray of blood as Eldwin
reared back with a cry, her own scream joining with his.  The gun had
fallen from her hand as she automatically tried to stop her bleeding, the
knife pulling free as he fell back.  Common snse and training had taken
over and she'd grabbed again for the gun, but he beat her to it, reaching
to take it with his left hand, his right arm hanging uselessly from his
side.  There'd been a sudden burst of pain in her skull as he'd used the
gun in a crude back hand and then she'd woken up here . . . with the
knife beside her and the gun gone.
 "Dana?"
 "Right arm . . . I hit him in the arm . . . maybe the shoulder .
. . "  Her head was spinning.  "He would have to . . . have to -- "
 "Find a doctor.  Bateman!"  Mulder's voice grew distant for a
moment and then came back on again.  "She's getting people to call around
to the hospitals now looking for gunshot wounds."
 "The gun . . . "
 "She'll tell them he's armed and dangerous," he soothed.
 She nodded weakly, forgetting that he couldn't see her.  "Good."
 "You doing okay?"  His voice was gentle.
 "Hurts like hell," she replied faintly.  "Puncture wound to . . .
to the lower abdomen . . . internal bleeding . . . trauma to the head . .
. head and right arm . . . "  Where the metal bar had landed earlier was
sore and swollen, the arm probably fractured, but she had been able to
ignore it with the adrenaline flowing, but now it was competing with her
stomach, a distant pain but still there.  Her head had complaints of its
own as well.
 "What trauma?'  He sounded worried again.
 "Got hit with . . . with a metal rod of . . . of some sort."  A
faint painfilled smile spread slowly across her face.  "I guess . . .
guess I'm about as banged up . . . as you ever get . . . "
 "You didn't have to do that on my account, Scully," he responded.
 "You're . . . calling me . . . 'Scully' again," she pointed out
gently.
 "Don't I always?"
 "No . . . you were calling me . . . calling me 'Dana' . . . you
only do that . . . when you're worried . . . "
 "I *am* worried."
 "Me too."  Her eyes drifted shut again.  "Me too."

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

Hoover Building
6:15 a.m.

 Mulder was sitting on the edge of his seat.  Someon had brought
in coffee for him and Bateman, but his was rapidly cooling on the table.
He couldn't bring himself to drink right now.  His stomach was twisted
into about a billion little knots that seemed to be crawling up his
throat to choke him.
 Bateman was on the phone, alternating between several phone
lines, including Shelton's cellular.  From the expression on her face
Mulder could tell that no one had found anything yet.  In the last thirty
minutes, he'd been checking his watch every few seconds.  This was taking
too long.  Scully's voice was getting weaker with every passing moment;
she couldn't have much time left.
 Every time he tried to tell her something that had been on his
mind since Bateman had shown up at his door just under an hour and a half
ago, he'd frozen, unable to get the words out.  He'd known full well that
he'd been calling her 'Dana,' but had shrugged it off when Scully asked.
He was more than just worried.  He felt like someone had taken out his
heart and used it as a pin cushion.  Little bits of him were leaking out
into the ether with every tick of the clock.
 It was funny.  In every drama from the masterpieces of society to
the worst ever brought to light there was a moment when everything
crystalized, came into perfect focus.  Mulder was having his moment of
clarity right now.
 Did he love Dana Scully?
 It sure as hell felt like it.  The thought of her being somewhere
out there, alone, injured, *dying*, was driving him to the point where
all he could do was sit there and react with hollow dread.  Their
constant feuds of the last few months, their angry words had evaporated
from his memory like snowflakes on a hot fird.  All that mattered was how
he felt now, the sense of completion that she brought to him, the intense
feelings that were a deep part of him.  The terrible feeling that it was
all going to die unsaid, along with her.
 He supposed he'd never said anything becuase he feared that her
feelings would run a far different course than his.  Rejection had never
been one of his favourite things to deal with.  Better to never tempt the
experience at all, to stay alone.  There was less risk of pain in being
alone.
 But life was a risk.  As an FBI agent he knew that better than most.
 "M . . . Mulder . . . "  Her voice was weaker than ever.
 "Fox," he interrupted, surprising her and himself.
 "What . . . ?"
 "Less syllables," he said lightly.
 The silence told him that she knew what he really meant.
   "This a . . . a one time offer?"
 "We can talk about that later."  His voice was low, but Bateman
was staring at him in shock, her mouth dropping open.
 " . . . deal . . . "  Dana whispered.
________________________________________

END PART ONE

__________________________
 

South Washington
6:21 a.m.

 Doug stood in the middle of the building, eyeing the ground in
front of him with suspicion.  Sunrise was still about half an hour away
and the search teams had brought in flashlights to illuminate the area.
The artificial light tended to wash everythig with shades of yellow and
the dark stains on the floor were no exception.  Resolutely, Doug knelt
to get a better look, holding the flashlight high above his shoulder,
trying to ge the best possible look.
 Skinner approached him from behind as the younger agent reported
his finds via the cellular to his partner back at the Hoover Building.
   "Looks like we've found the place, Zoe," Doug said.
 "What'd you find?"
 "Looks like blood stains . . . we'll have to try and follow them."
 "Typing just came back from the blood taken from Dana's car.
It's not hers."
 "Eldwin's then?"
 "Yeah.  Dana shot him.  We're checking hospitals now."
 "Good for her."  He took a deep breath.  "How's she doing?"
 "hard to tell.  Do me a favor and hurry, okay?"
 "You bet."
 "Mulder's getting desperate.  They're on a first name basis."
 "You're kidding, right?"
 "Doug, do I *sound* like I'm kidding?"
 "No, but you sound like you *wish* you were."
 "Huh."
 "I'll get back to you," he said, noticing that Skinner was
looming over him.
 "Watch your back, Doug.  Eldwin's still out there somewhere and
he's got Dana's gun."
 "Whoa.  Run *that* part by me again."
 "He stole her gun."
 "Dammit.  Zoe!  That's something we needed to know!"
 "Hey!  I just found out!"  Her voice was rising with anger that
he knew wasn't really directed at him.
 "Sorry."
 She sighed.  "So am I.  I've got to check in with the other
agents."  She hung up as Doug got back to his feet.
 "Shelton?"
 "Looks like a blood trail, sir," he reported, phone still hanging
from his hand.  "Agnet Bateman just told me that Scully shot Eldwin and
that he took her gun.   She's got people checking the local hospitals."
 "According to Mulder's profile of the man, he's not going to be
stupid enough to walk into a hospital and hope for the best.  He knows
that it would be reported right away."  Skinner surveyed the building.
"If he *was* hurt though, he couldn't have gotten very far.  Scully has
to be somewhere nearby."
 Doug looked around the one story building that was laid out like
a warehouse.  "She's not here."
 "Maybe not, but check again.  It's got to be here or one of the
other nearby buildings."  Skinner headed back outside.
 Turning to the other agents, Doug gave them a significant look.
"You heard him.  One more try."
 He looked down at the blood stains one more time.  There was an
awful lot of it.
 "Keep it together, Dana," he said softly.  "We're almost there."
 

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

Location Unknown
6:22 a.m.

 Dana licked her dry lips and tried not to groan.  Intellectually
she knew she was drifting into shock, knew it was only a matter of time,
but that realization did nothing to dispel the fear that raced through
her.  The room was suddenly much too cold and the strain on her muscles
to keep them from shivering was almost as painful as letting them would
have been.  The pain from the wound was beginning to subside, the edge
taken off of it as her system slid further and further out of control.
 "Mulder -- Fox," she said quietly in a voice that was one step
removed from reality.  "I'm getting really tired."
 "Dana, you have to stay awake."  His voice was loud in her ear.
 "I *know* that . . . I'm a . . . a doctor . . . 'memeber?"
Speech was difficult now, her thotughts scattering like seeds in a stiff
wind before she could pull them into focus.
 "I hadn't forgotten."   The tone of his response brought a half
smile to her face.
 She could remember all the times that she'd had to patch him up,
from applying pressure to a bullet damaged artery on a dockside pier
while praying for an ambulance to get down there before he beld to death,
to arguing with an ER doctor in the Arctic to prevent Mulder from being
brought out of hypothermia before treatment could be begun with anti
viral drugs.  Give Mulder a stack of paper and he'd probably find some
way to inflict severe bodily damage to himself.
 Sometimes she wondered how he'd survived before she came along.
 She didn't realize she'd been talking out loud until he replied,
"Forget about debunking my work, Dana, they just wanted someone to keep
my medical bills down."
 "Guess I did . . . did a lousy job, huh?"
 "No.  You did a great job.  Still will."
 "Fox . . . "  It was strange how easy it was for her to call him
that.  Strange and oddly soothing.  "Thank you."
 "For what?"
 "Letting me call you . . . by your name."
 "Only you, Dana," he said softly, voice carrying more emotion
that she dared to name.  He was trying to tell her something more.
 "I . . . I know," she said simply.  "We've just got . . . got bad
timing."
 "We're going to find you," he said firmly.  "You just have to
stay awake."  His voice caught.  "All right?"
 "I"m trying," she said, her own voice unsteady.  But she was
loosing the battle, the room swimming in and out of focus like a
kaleidoscope, the colours blending into new combinations that taxed her
eyes.  The need for forgiveness was suddenly overwhelming.  "Please . . .
don't be angry . . . . angry for what I did . . . "
 "I'm not angry," he said instantly, with conviction.
 The thing light that had been coming in from a dirty window
suddenly faded.
 "It's getting so dark in here . . . "
 "Dana!"  His voice was raised now, shouting in her ear, but even
that was far away.
 A frightened cry escaped her lips.
 The window was being blocked by a person.

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

Hoover Building
6:26 a.m.

 Mulder was one step away from crying himself.  Dana's voice was
unsteady,  trembling with fear, pain, exhaustion and some other emotion
that he couldn't face naming right now.  Her words were becoming
increasingly more difficult to make out and he knew he was losing her to
shock.
 His only recourse was to shout in the phone now, hoping that some
part of her could still hear him and listen.
 Bateman was watching him now, ignoring the phone in her hand a
pained expression on her face mirroring the one on his own.
 "Come on, Dana," he was yelling into the receiver.  "Answer me!"
He looked over at Bateman, shaking his head.  "She's not answering."
 "Oh, Mulder . . . " Her eyes were soft with grief.
 "Dammit, she's slipped into shock!  Where's the hell Shelton and
Skinner?"
 "Still looking."
 "Come on, Dana."  This time he whispered the words into the
phone, sagging in his seat, feeling a wave of numbness wash over him.
 "Not . . . not dead yet, Katherine?"
 He sait up straighter in the chair, pushing the cellular against
his ear as if that would make him hear better.  This voice was one he
hadn't heard before.  With his free hand, he waved Bateman over, turning
the phone so they could both hear, covering the receiver.
 "Not dead . . . bitch . . . shot me and still not dead . . . "
 "No . . . " That was Dana's voice, weak and ineffectual against
the ramblings of the other speaker.  "No . . . please . . . "
 Mulder's eyes were wide with fear as Bateman dived for the other
phone.  "Christ!  That's Eldwin!"

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

South Washington
6:30 a.m.

 Doug pulled the phone out of his pocket with mingled relief and
horror.  So far they'd found nothing.  The blood trail led out the door
to the building, but they'd lost it on the street.  A canvass of the
homeless living in the area turned up no information about an injured man
moving the body of a woman.  Not even the offer of money could get them
to remember anything that might otherwise be forgotten.  Maybe,
hopefully, someone else had better luck.
 "Shelton."
 "Doug, oh my God, it's Eldwin!"  Zoe's voice was filed with
panic.  "He's *there*!"
 Doug shut his eyes for a second, waving a hand in negation while
he tried to figure out what the hell his partner was trying to tell him.
"Come again, Zoe?"
 "Eldwin is with Dana!"
 "What?!"  He spun around as if he could see them.  "What's going on?"
 "I'm not sure exactly, but we can hear him over the phone.  He
sounds pissed and like he's not willing to wait for us to show up."
 Doug bolted out the door of the building, scanning the street for
Skinner.  He spotted the AD about half a block away and Doug reached the
nearest car, jerking open the door on a startled agent, slamming his hand
down on the horn.  "Hang on, Zoe, I'm getting Skinner."
 The AD looked up in surprise at the noise and saw Doug, waving
frantically while giving the horn another blast for good measure.
 "Tell me you've got good news, Shelton," he said, jogging up.
 "I wish, sir.  It's Eldwin.  He's there, where ever Dana is."  He
could see the horror in his own eyes relected in the eyes of the other
man.  "It sounds like he's going to kill her."
 The predawn calm was shattered by a gunshot.

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

Location Unknown
6:31 a.m.

 Eldwin was pacing in front of her, his left hand wrapped around
his right shoulder, which was still bleeding.  He was screaming
obscenities, working himself into a killing rage.  All she could do was
watch him.
 " . . . try to kill me," he snarled, eyes nearly bulging out of
their sockets, their glassy countenance chilling her to the core.  He was
stone on something and the way he was moving it looked like it was PCP.
He was massaging the shoulder wound so hard that he was doing more damage
than the bullet had.  "Gonna kill you ."
 Somewhere outside a car horn blared.
 Her gun was tucked in the front of his dirty jeans, the butt
protruding over the waistband.
 "Can't go to no hospital . . . they'll turn me in . . . "  He
turned his wild eyed gaze full on her, drawing the weapon.  "All your fault!"
 "Oh god," she whispered, eyes swimming into focus enough for her
to see the barrel pointed at her head.  "Fox!"
 "*Eldwin*!"   The voice erupted from the phone next to her ear
and she winced away, gasping in shock as the gun went off, bullet
slamming into the floor five inches away from her head, sending a spray
of concrete chips into the air, some of them stingin her cheek.  His aim
had been thrown off by the voice.
 Mulder's voice.
 "What the hell?"  Eldwin looked at her, squinting somewhat
because he didn't remember leaving a man here to die.
 "*DANA*!"  Mulder's voice was frantic.  To him the gunshot would
have been incredibly forceful since the bullet hit closer to the phone
than her.  "*Dana*!  Are you all right?!"
 "I'm . . . okay, Fox . . . " she gasped as Eldwin leaned down,
snatching the phone and placing it next to his ear, smacking her
maliciously in the head with the gun.  She moaned as more pain spread
through her skull.
 "Who's this?" Eldwin demanded, holding the phone awkwardly with
his injured arm, the gun still pointed at her.  "Gimme an answer or she's
dead."

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

Hoover Building
6:34 a.m.

 Mulder was on his feet, free hand clutching the table top with
tension.  When he'd heard Dana's hopeless whipser, he'd reacted to it,
not thinking fully about what he was doing, shouting Eldwin's name.  And
then the gun had gone off and his heart nearly stopped, automatically
moving the receiver away from his ear and then immediately putting it
back against his ear, screaming her name in fear.  Her answer gave him
enough strength to rise as Eldwin came on the line.
 "This is Agent Mulder of the FBI," he replied coldly to the
man's quesion, fighting to ignore the threat.  "Is this Saul Eldwin?"
 "Mebbe."
 Eldwin sounded less than in complete control of his mental
faculties and Mulder swallowed hard.  Talking a killer down was hard
enough when he was rational . . . but if Mulder didn't Dana was going to
die in the next few seconds.
 "Listen, Saul, I want you to put the gun down."
 "But I like it."  He heard an intake of breath.  "If I put it
down, she'll shoot me again."
 "No she won't."  Mulder was dimly aware of Bateman's frantic
efforts on the other phone line, hearing her muffled conversation.  She'd
jumped out of her seat at the same time he did.  "Dana won't shoot you,
Saul."  <Though I will if I ever see you.>  "She's hurt, Saul.  She's
going to die."  He managed not to stumble over the word.
 "Good."

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

South Washington
6:35 a.m.

 "Where'd that gunshot come from?" Skinner demanded as half the
agent present came out of defensive crouches, Doug included.
 "Sounded close."
 "Doug!"  Zoe's voice was echoing from the phone.  "Dammit!
*Doug*!"
 "Yeah, we're all still here."  He scanned the nearby buildings as
he spoke.  The gun shot sounded really close.
 "Eldwin just fired the gun."
 "*Eldwin* fired?  We just heard a shot!"
 "He's got to be nearby!  Mulder's trying to talk him out of the
gun."
 "And Dana?"
 "Didn't hit her."
 "Thank God.  Look, Zoe, I'll get back to you, okay?"  He hung up
without waiting for a reply.  "Eldwin just fired a shot.  It has to be
the same one we heard."  He raised his voice slightly.  "Did anyone see
someone matching his description in the area?"
 Heads were shaking.
 Skinner surveyed the buildings.  "Fan out, everyone.  But stay
alert."
 "Hey, Mr. FBI!"  One of the homeless men from the next street
over shuffled up to Doug, a look of excitement on his face.  "I didn't
see no woman, but I did see a guy covered in blood."
 Doug grabbed him by the shoulders.  "Where?"
 "Next block.  He went into that old tenement over there."
 Skinner was already heading for it when Doug let the man go and
started after him.
 "Hey!" shouted the man.  "Don't I get my twenty bucks?"
 Agent Blythe shoved almost forty into the man's hand before
sprinting after the other two.
 "Thanks," he said, leaving the man to stare after them.
 The man looked down at the money and a wide grin split his grimy
face.  "Anytime."

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

Hoover Building
6:38 a.m.

 Mulder was sweating.
 He wiped at his forehead with his free hand as Bateman watched
him with trepidation from across the table.  Skinner's phone hung limply
from her hand, almost forgotten.
 "Listen to me, Saul.  Can you tell me where you are?"  Mulder
tried to keep his voice calm, free of any anger he felt towards the man
on the other end.
 "Why do you need to know that?"  Eldwin sounded like he had been
hit in the head several times with a blunt instrument.  Mulder could
detect no signs of intelligence in his voice.
 <And this guy killed *four* people without being *caught*?>
Sometimes he couldn't believe the world he lived in.  A man with violent
tendancies and what seemed like the working intelligence of an ant could
get away with murder and sucessfully attack a well trained, smart, and
rational federal agent.
 <Don't think about that now.  Focus on him or you'll lose Dana
for sure.>
 "I want to talk to you."
 "We're talking now."
 "I want to see your face."  Mulder looked away from Bateman, out
towards Skinner's window.  "It's easier to talk to someone when you can
see them."
 "I don't want to be seen."
 "Saul.  Listen to me.  You're in a lot of trouble and it will
only get worse if you don't put that gun down now."  He shut his eyes,
saying a wordless prayer to a god he wasn't sure if he believed in.
 A scrap of memory came to him unbidden.  Dana, just after she'd
come out of her coma, looking weak and pale but alive.
 <I had the strength of your beliefs.>
 She believed in him.  He had to pull this off.
 "If I put the gun down, will I still go to jail?"  Eldwin's voice
sounded childlike.
 "We can talk about that.  Where are you?"
 "*Stop* *asking* *me* *that*!"  The words were almost screamed
over the phone.
 "Okay, okay, just take it easy."  His mind was racing.  What did
they know about this guy?  Why was he motivated to kill those with the
letter 'K' in their names?
 Kelly Jane Winters.
 Dale Kevin Micheals.
 Sarah Karla Pritchard.
 Kyle Birley.
 Dana Katherine Scully.
 <She's *not* dead!>
 Saul Kendall Eldwin.
 It came to him in an instant.
 Mulder's eyes popped open again.  It wasn't those people that he
wanted to kill.  It was himself.
 "Saul, you didn't want to hurt those people did you?  You didn't
want to kill them."
 Silence.
 "You're angry at yourself, aren't you?"
 "I don't want to talk to you anymore."  Eldwin's voice was low
and angry.  "I know who I want to hurt."
 "Saul, wait!"
 It was too late.
 Eldwin had hung up the phone.
 "*NO*!"  Mulder was trembling as he looked over at Bateman.  "I
blew it."  He dropped the phone from his suddenly numb hand.
 Bateman was beside him in a flash, pushing him down in the chair
behind him.  "You did your best, Mulder."
 "It was't good enough."  He felt so drained.  "She's dead."   His
eyes met Bateman's.  "Dana's dead."
 And he began to cry.

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

South Washington
6:41 a.m.

 Skinner motioned for Doug to follow him inside the tenement,
moving slowly.
 The front door had been knocked off its hinges a long time ago
and the wood was half rotted away, parts of it blocking the entrance, but
not enough to stop anyone that was determined to get in.
 The moved silently as Agent Blythe joined them from behind, a
little winded form his sprint to catch up to the other two.  Skinner
looked back in irritation as the younger man gulped down his panting
breath and exhaled silently, nodding once to show he was ready for this.
 Skinner went in first, stepping over the pile of debris at the
front of the doorway, Doug just far enough behind not to present a double
target to whomever might be waiting.  He noticed blood spatters on the
part of the door closest to him.  They had the right place.
 Blythe moved in behind Doug, almost too close, his sleeve
catching on the wood.  Stifling a curse, he tried to work it free, but
Doug had to reach back and do it for him, wondering if he should send the
man back outside for more agents to keep him out of the way.  They
couldn't risk screwing this up because of some rookie.
 Blythe met his eyes and inclined his head, letting him know he
was on it.
 Doug nodded once.  He'd better be.
 The hall leading off the door had several different suites.
Some of the individual doors were gone, some still in place.  Parts of
the ceiling had come down onto the floor, revealing bare rafters shrouded
in cobwebs.  The overall impression of the place was so shabby, it would
be the perfect site to dump a body.  It gave the feeling that there was
more than one hidden in there.
 Skinner looked back at Doug, raising his eyes towards the second
floor and shaking his head.
 If Eldwin had moved Dana this far, there seemed little reason
for him to climb up a flight of stairs when the rest of the place was
secluded enough.
 Doug nodded, drawing his gun and following his boss down the
hallway, Blythe right behind.
 They listened at the first door, but heard nothing.  The next
door was gone and Skinner covered Doug as he stuck his head inside for a
quick look.
 Nothing.
 "*Stop* *asking* *me* *that*!"
 The words came from the end of the hall, from one of the missing
doorways.
 It was impossible to run without making noise, but the three
tried their best, making their way carefully around the scattered garbage
and debris on the floor, trying not to trip over it.
 Skinner reached the door first, and put his back against the wall
next to it, while Doug stepped quickly across the opening to press
himself against the other side wall, not daring to look in, waiting for
a shout to tell him that he'd been spotted.
 None came.
 Whoever was in the room was too preoccupied to notice them.
 Blythe stood to Skinner's right, looking scared and very young.
 "I don't want to talk to you anymore," came the voice.
 Doug peered cautiously around the corner of the door.
 There was a man standing halfway into the room, with his back to
the door, a cellular phone in his right hand, the shoulder of that arm
dripping blood onto the already squalid floor.  His other arm was
extended, pointing towards the ground and although Doug couldn't see the
man't other hand, he was willing to bet there was a gun in it.
 Beyond the man, on the floor, was a form, cloaked by the shadows
cast by the man's body.  A bit of light was coming from a window along
the side wall, a square patch of pale light that highlighted a patch of
blood and an outstretched hand.
 A woman's hand.
 Doug drew his head back and took a deep, deep breath, looking at
Skiner and nodding.  They'd found her.
 "I know who I want to hurt."  The man threw the phone against the
far wall with a bang that the federal agents could hear.
 Skinner was counting with his fingers.
 Three.
 Two.
 "I'm going to kill you, Katherine."
 One.

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

 Dana was barely awake enough to register that Eldwin was
screaming into the phone until he threw it against the wall with violent
force.  That shocked her back into awareness as she saw the gun beginning
to raise up level with her head.
 "I'm gonna kill you, Katherine."
 She looked into his eyes and saw death.
 <Fox, I'm sorry!>  A thousand memories raced through her mind,
but none became clear.  <Oh God.>
 The room began to spin.
 "*FBI*!" shouted a voice from behind Eldwin.  "Drop the gun!
Drop it or you're a dead man!"
 She barely heard the order.
 His eyes widened in surprise, the gun shaking slightly in his hand.
 "Put it down!"  Another voice, this one angrier than the first.
 The world began to dim.
 Eldwin spun and fired.
 The world faded to black.

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

 "Shit!"  Doug flung himself backward as the man turned, landing
on the floor on his rear as the bullet smacked into the wall opposite the
doorway.  Skinner had likewise drew back, but didn't loose his footing.
<Okay, at least he's shooting at us, not Dana.>  Doug got back to his
feet, crouching beside the door, about to angle for a shot.  Their job
was harder bacause the very last thing they wanted to do was hit Dana by
accident.  Eldwin of course didn't really care *what* he hit as long as a
hole appeared in it when he connected.
 Blythe jumped in front of the doorway, gun held high, squeezing
off two shots.
 "Blythe!" Skinner yelled in anger, yanking him back as Eldwin
returned fire.
 Doug kept his head low and peered around the door frame again.
Eldwin had taken both hits in the chest, but was still standing.
 "Dammit, he's on something!"  There was no other way for him to
still be upright if he wasn't.
 "Stay *put*!" Skinner said to Blythe before looking around the
corner for himself.
 A bullet narrowly missed him.
 He returned fire.
 Doug stuck his head around the corner in time to see a samll hole
appear in Eldwin's forehead as if by magic.  He tottered forward two
steps, the gun dropping from his hand before he joined it on the floor.
 Moving into the room, Doug kept his gun trained on the downed
man, kicking the other gun far out of reach before bending to check for a
pulse.  There was none.
 "Blythe, go call for an ambulance."  Skinner stepped into the
room.  "Tell them we've got a downed federal agent and if they don't get
over here fast, I'm going to sick the IRS on each and every one of their
employees."
 "Yes, sir."
 Doug heard the man's retreating footsteps but ignored them,
moving towards the second figure in the room, kneeling in a pool of
blood that still trickled slowly from around a slack hand.  Gently, he
moved it over to reveal a deep stab wound in the stomach that immediately
welled with blood.  He clamped one hand down on it, dumping his gun on
the floor and searching for a pulse in Dana Scully's throat, wincing as
he saw the purple bruise along the side of her head and the pale colour
of her face.
 Skinner joined him, pushing Doug's hand away from the wound
before taking over the exertion of pressure.
 The pulse was slow and unsteady, fluttering more with every beat
of her heart.  She was still breathing though and Doug tugged off his
trench coat, wadding it into a bundle that he slid under her head.
 "Oh, man, Dana, you die now and Zoe's going to kill me," he said
softly.
 "If there's anything left when Mulder's through with us."
 Doug jerked his head around to face the Assistant Director with a
look of shock.  The older man met his look with one of his own.
 "Whatever she needs to hear," he said shortly.  "You keep
talking to her."
 Doug nodded, dismissing the other man, the dead body, and
focussing on his friend.  "C'mon back, Dana.  Eldwin's dead and he's not
going to be hurting anyone else."  He grabbed hold of the hand that he'd
moved away from the wond and rubbed it, alarmed by the chill it held.
"Mulder's going to be glad to see you, you know.  He and Zoe have been
raising hell at the Bureau.  Shouting at people, organizing the search.
They've been busy . . . and they don't want it all to be for nothing."
 Skinner shook his head.
 Guilting her into waking up wasn't going to work.
 "Dana, I know you can hear me," Doug tried again.  "Mulder wanted
me to tell uyou that he's coming as fast as he can."  Bits of what Zoe
had told him and what he had overheard from his phone connection to her
were filling his mind.  "I get the feeling that the two of you have a lot
to talk about."
 He almost missed the faint whisper but heard a quiet sigh of
breath that made him lean in closer.
 " . . . Fox . . . "
 "He's coming."  Doug hoped to God Skinner didn't figure out what
it was Dana and Mulder *really* had to talk about.
 " . . . Eld . . . Eldwin . . . "
 "Is dead."
 Her eyes opened, fluttered shut then opened again, pain flitting
across her features. " . . . ohhhhhh . . . "
 "Easy.  Easy.  The ambulance is on it's way.  Just lie still."
Doug shot a look over at Skinner who actually cracked a smile.
 "Agent Scully."
 Her eyes darted over to him.
 "Nice of you to join us."
 Doug could hear sirens.
 The window in the room suddenly lit up.
 Dawn had finally arrived.

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

Hoover Building
6:59 a.m.

 Zoe bit her lip and looked at Mulder.
 He was almost curled in on himself, sitting in that chair.  He
was ignoring her, the tears falling from his eyes without end.
 She wanted to cry too.
 For herself, for Dana and for Mulder.
 She'd suspected that the two of them might one day be involved,
but hadn't dared to say anything about it.  Dana would have only scoffed
and denied it, while Mulder probably would have asked her when she'd last
had counseling.
 Never had she imagined it would come to a head like this.
 "Mulder . . . "  Her own voice was wavering, her eyes trembling
with unshed tears.  "Mulder, I'm sorry . . . "
 How completely inadequate those words were.
 She sat down in her own chair.
 Dana Scully, her best friend, was dead.
 <Dana, I'm sorry we couldn't do enough . . . >
 Zoe didn't believe in God but she said a prayer for her friend's
soul anyway.
 The phone in front of her rang.
 She almost didn't pick it up, but instinct made her.
 "Bate -- Bateman," she said, having to clear her throat.
 "We've got her."  Doug's voice was almost as ragged as her own.
 "What?"
 "We found her.  She's in transit to Washington Memorial now.
Skinner's in the ambulance with her and I'm en route to my car."
 "But Eldwin -- "
 "We got there just as he was about to shoot her.  He's not going
to be a problem anymore.  Skinner killed him."
 "But -- "
 "Look get Mulder and get over to the hospital.  The paramedics
weren't sure if she was going to make it or not."
 "I . . . I will."
 "Zoe?"
 "Yeah."
 "I don't care what the paramedics said.  She's going to make it."
 "I hope so." She hung up.  "Mulder."
 He was still too wrapped up in his own grief to notice her.
 "Mulder!"
 His head jerked up, puzzlement and pain flashing through his eyes.
 "They found her."
 "Wh -- what?"
 "They *found* her.  She's still alive."  Zoe got out of her
chair, and grabbed his trenchcoat from the back of one of the tables's
other chairs, tossing it at him.  "Come on.  We've got to get to
Washington Memorial."
 He caught the coat by reflex.  "She's alive?"
 Zoe nodded.

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

Washington Memorial Hospital
12:58 p.m.

 They were still waiting.
  Most of the other agents had gone back to work,  Skinner had been
the last to go, after word had come from one of the surgeons that Dana
was going to pull through -- barely.  Out of professional courtesy, one
of the surgeon's had left the operating theater when her part was done
and let them know immediately what the prognosis was.  Dana would still be
in surgery for a while longer but her skull X-ray had come back negative
for any fractures, her broken arm had been set, and the doctors were
finishing up repairing the damage wrought by the knife.  As long as there
were no complications and infection didn't set in everything was going to
be fine.
 Mulder wasn't willing to take anyone's word for it and had merely
grunted at the news.  Zoe had broken out into a relieved grin and gone
off to call Margaret Scully, Doug in tow as she tried to figure out
exactly what she was going to say.  Skinner has started to leave then
paused, looking back at his agent, who was sitting in a hospital issue
chair with his elbows propped up by his knees, head in his hands.
 "Agent Mulder."
 The look the younger man gave him was bleak.
 "Ah . . . Mulder."  Skinner's harsh look softened.  "You did your
best.  If you hadn't kept Eldwin talking as long as you had we never
would have gotten there in time."
 "The irony, sir, is that if he hadn't have come back to finish
her off, we never would have found her at all.  I still blew it.  I
couldn't save her."
 Skiner sighed.  "She wasn't asking you to."
 Before Mulder could ask him what he meant by that, the older man
left, leaving him staring after him with an expression of disbelief.

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

5:47 p.m.

 The sun had set again.
 Mulder looked out the window, one arm braced against the wall,
letting the dusky colours wash over him.  The light fromn the hospital
room was dim, setting the perfect mood for him.
 In the bed behind him, Dana was still unconscious, this time
from sedation rather than shock.  Addording to her doctor, she'd lost a
massive amount of blood.  He believed the man.  He'd seen some of it on
Shelton's clothes and Skinner's hands.
 He shut his eyes and breathed a thankful word to whatever deity
had been watching out of her this morning.
 They hadn't a prayer of find her in time, until Eldwin came
back.  The gunshot had given the searchers notice that he was there.  And
if that homeless man hadn't seen him enter that building . . .
 Mulder shuddered, opening his eyes to stare out at the ever
deepening darkness.
 He'd gotten a description of the man from Shelton and made a
mental note to go thank him personally.
 Coincidence within coincidence.
 That was all that had saved Dana's life.
 He hadn't done a thing . . .
 " . . . hey . . . "
 The voice was hesitant, filled with an aching tiredness and some
other, undefinded emotion.
 He turned back towards the room forcing a bright smile onto his
face.  "Hey, yourself. "  Crossing back to the bed, he sat gingerly on
the edge of it.  "How you feeling?"
 "Awful," she said swallowing with difficulty.  "But alive."
 He poured a glass of water from the bedside pitcher and handed it
to her.  She took it awkwardly, trying not to tangle the IV lines from
her left arm, her right in a cast.  Mulder helped her avoid knotting the
cords and then took the glass from her when she was done.
 "What . . . what happened?" she asked in a weak voice.
 "What do you remember?" he countered in a gentle tone, brushing
sweat dampened red hair from her face, careful to avoid the bruise that
had spread along her temple to half way down her jaw.
 "Not . . . not much . . . Eldwin . . . "  Her gaze dropped from
his face and she drew in a deep breath, wincing a little.  "He came back
. . . with my gun . . he was going to . . . to kill me."  Her voice was
shaking and she reached out for his hand.  He let her take it, reaching
with his free hand to place it along her right cheek.  Her blue eyes were
damp with tears but she refused to shed them.  "I was scared."
 "It's all right."
 Her eys met hs and the tears brimmed over.  "I thought . . . that
I was going to die."
 He felt his heart lurch again, this time not from fear but from
pain.  "I know you did."
 Her shoulders were shaking with sobs that she strangled down,
which only made her stomach hurt more, pain flaring across her features.
Mulder shifted a little closer and pulled her into his arms, deftly
avoiding the IV lines.
 "Let it out, Dana," he whispered into her hair, feeling tears of
his own forming in his eyes.
 She did and he held her until the worst of the sobs from both of
them had petered out.
 "I'm sorry," he said as they pulled apart.
 "For what?"  She was confused.
 "I couldn't do anyting."  He had felt so helpless and even a
little jealous of the fact Shelton and Skinner had been the ones to find her.
 "Mu -- *Fox* . . . "
 It was strange to hear her call him that face to face.  Strange
but at the same time very comfortable.
 "When I called you, I *never* expected . . . I thought that no
one would find me."  Her eyes looked frightened.  " I just didn't want .
. . I didn't want to die without . . . "  She paused, groping for the
words.  "Without . . . without saying goodbye."
 His hazel eyes locked on hers.  Was she saying what he thought
she was?  Did it matter?  He had to tell her what had been preying on his
mind all day, growing more and more urgent as he had kept vigil over her
during the afternoon.
 "Dana,  I . . . I -- care -- *deeply* for you."  He was afraid to
meet her eyes.  "I knew that, but I don't think I realized how much until
I was powerless to help you when you needed it most."
 "Fox -- "
 He held up a hand, the other one clenched tightly in his lap.  "I
wanted you to know that."
 "Thank you," she said softly.
 He looked up at her insurprise.
 An engimatic half smile was playing across her face.  "Why do you
think . . . think I called *you*?"
 He grinned, a great burden lifting from him, his hand seeking
hers again.  "I wasn't sure."
 "Neither was I."
 Their eyes met again and this time neither of them wanted to look
away.  Mulder leaned in towards her and their lips met briefly.  He
pulled back, eyes searching hers.
 "Is this going to work?"
 "If we make it."

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

 Outside the room, Zoe put a hand out to stop Doug from opening
the door, her gaze locked on the scene visible throught the mesh window.
 "Uh, Doug, hang on a couple of seconds."
 He looked hat her in puzzlement.  They'd spent the day doing all
the  paperwork on the case after swinging by Doug's place so he could get
a change of clothes.  By the time they were finished, visiting hours
were over the the hospital, but rules were sometimes bent for law
enforcement officers so they had headed straight for the place.  And now
Zoe wanted to wait?
 "I don't think they want to be disturbed right now."  She had a
strange expression on her face, one that was part mischeif and part shock.
 Doug looked in the window.
 "Oh, man, I hope Skinner doesn't find out about this . . . "
 Zoe giggled.  "I won't tell it you won't.  C'mon, G-Man, I'll
buy you a cup of coffee."
 He smiled at her.  "After the day I've had, you'd better throw in
dinner."
 "At a hospital cafeteria?  I'm not paying for a stomach pump."
 Doug let her lead him down the hall.  "I'll take my chances . . . "
 "And so will they," she replied with a grin.  "And so will they."

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

Pentagon
9:51 p.m.

 The man regared the transcript in front of him, ignoring the
smoke that drifted around.  It looked like the listening device he'd had
placed in AD Skinner's office had finally paid off.
 A predatory smile crossed his face as he read the report again.
 Very profitable indeed.
 He reached for the phone, removing a card from his jacket pocket
that had only a telephone number on it.  This card had been waiting to be
used for a long time.
 And the time was now.

***************
THE END?

Okay, guys, feedback would be really good on this one . . . did I do okay
with the relationship angle or should I stop now?  The story isn't over,
I don't think . . . consider this a lead in to Conspiracy unless everyone
objects . . .

Jess (larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca)
Member of Mysterious & Suspicious
Member of XAngst Anonymous