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Title: Dual Split 
Parts: 1 to 8 
Author: Maria O’Rourke 
Feedback: dk_scully_101@yahoo.com
Website: 
http://www.geocities.com/tobecontinuedxf/index.htm 
Summary: FBI Agent. Partner. Friend. Daughter. 
Scientist. Serial Murderer? The truth about Dana 
Scully is not for the faint of heart. 
Spoilers: It’s set in 2000 and there are no specific 
mentions of episodes. 
Archive: Fine, just let me know please. 
Disclaimer: Well, what’s the point? Anyone reading 
this knows who owns them… 
 
 
Unknown Place and Time. 
 
Her tongue ran over her upper lip as she stared 
into the broken mirror in front of her. Her vacant 
stare held nothing at all, her eyes mere empty pools 
of blue. 
 
She was barely lucid, her thoughts running one 
into the other so fast that she couldn't catch up. She 
didn't remember how the mirror had gotten broken, 
didn't realise that there was a thin sliver of thick 
substance running down her fingers. It dripped to the 
grimy tiles beneath her barefoot feet. 
 
She didn't remember why she was barefoot either. 
Blinking, she swallowed, her thoughts slowly emanating 
from the muddle of her mind. She stared at her 
reflection in the shattered shards of glass that clung 
to the wall. 
 
Something in her eyes sparked as she gazed at her 
face, covered in tear-tracks and caked blood. Her eyes 
lit with their usual flare as the confusion in her 
brain finally slowed and the pain in her skull 
stopped, her temples no longer throbbing. 
 
Her hand rose in front of her face, inches away 
from her eyes, and she stared at the blood. Her eyes 
rose and looked at the mirror, only now seeing the 
corresponding blood dripping slowly from the edge of 
the shards. 
 
She swallowed slowly again, trying to remember 
what had happened but she failed. She couldn't 
remember how she had broken the mirror and, as she 
glanced at the bathroom she was now standing in, she 
couldn't even remember how she had gotten here in the 
first place. 
 
Analysing the room, she was met with the sight of 
shattered glass and upturned objects of various 
descriptions and, she paused, blood. 
 
Puddles of blood. 
 
She looked at herself in the mirror again and, as 
far as she surmised, the blood had not come from her. 
There were no obvious cuts, at least none that would 
warrant this amount of blood. 
 
She swallowed and turned, her hand on the door 
when a shadow in the bathtub caught her eye. She spun 
around, taking a step to get a better view of the 
subject and when she glimpsed the scene, she felt 
whatever she had eaten roil in her stomach. 
 
She turned away from the bathtub and emptied the 
contents of her stomach onto the tiled floor, gripping 
her abdomen as she did so. By the time she had 
finished, she was on her knees, wiping away the 
remains of the vomit from her lips with the back of 
her bleeding hand. 
 
Coughing, she rose from the cold floor, her knees 
numbed slightly from the lack of circulation in her 
veins. She steadied herself with the palm of her hand 
on the sink, her fingers entering the overflowing 
basin. 
 
She looked absently down at the water and watched 
as the blood from her hands mixed with the water to 
form a pinkish substance which she was surprisingly 
astounded by. 
 
When she felt her stomach settle slightly, she 
cleared her throat and gazed into the tub again. She 
gritted her teeth as she stared at the sight of a man 
lying face down in its murky depths. 
 
He didn't lie in water, but in his own blood. He 
had no clothes on and she could see across his body 
the various cuts and bruises but, unfortunately for 
her, that wasn't the worst thing that greeted her. 
 
By the side of the still running tap, she could 
clearly see each one of his ten fingers. She could 
glimpse the hanging flesh and nerve endings as she 
stared and then her gaze turned to the water again. 
 
Gazing at the knife floating in the water, she 
found her hand reaching in and pulling it out. She 
stared at it for a moment before feeling the tears 
trail down her cheeks again. 
 
It was her knife. 
 
Her brow furrowed as she stared at the wooden 
handle, the inscription that was written on it by her 
father staring accusingly back at her. She swallowed 
quickly, running a wet hand over her face, covering 
the already blood-caked surface with fresh blood. 
 
Her breath was coming in gasps and short pants, 
making her long for fresh air. That's what she needed. 
 
Fresh air. 
 
She pocketed the knife, turning from the bathtub 
and opening the door into the connecting bedroom. Her 
gaze quickly darted across the room, looking for 
something that could help her determine what it was 
that had occurred, but she found nothing. 
 
She shook her head, finding the pounding from 
earlier returning. She couldn't breathe. She swallowed 
and tried to clear her thoughts but they were becoming 
increasingly muddled again. 
 
She fell to her knees, her bare flesh connecting 
with something which made the blood trickle from her 
skin. She blinked rapidly to try and regain her 
composure but as she tried to steady herself with the 
aid of the bed, she fell flat on her face. 
 
She couldn't move but from her position on the 
floor she gazed at the contents of what seemed like a 
bag spread out across the floor. As the growing 
darkness consumed her mind, her gaze centred on the 
badge lying upturned on the carpet. 
 
When she focussed on the words "Federal Agent", 
Dana Scully closed her eyes, lying unconscious on the 
floor. 
 
 
 
FBI Headquarters. 
Washington DC. 
September 14th 2000. 
8:38am 
 
 
 
He was making a trench in the carpet and he knew 
it. With each and every 
footstep he could feel himself getting deeper and 
deeper into the ground. 
 
He sighed and found the palm of his hand wiping 
the forming sweat from the 
back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he stopped briefly 
and ran the hand over his 
face, sighing again as he did so. 
 
He heard the door open and turned his eyes 
expectantly towards it but when he saw no petite 
red-head standing in the doorway, he swallowed and 
leaned against his desk, folding his arms across his 
chest. 
 
"Mulder?" Skinner's voice enquired in it's usual 
mundane tone. He closed the 
door behind him and looked around. "Where's Scully?" 
 
Mulder's jaw clenched for a moment before he 
answered. 
 
"She hasn't come in..." he replied evenly and 
Skinner's brow furrowed. 
 
"Is she late?" he asked and Mulder shrugged and 
rose from leaning on the 
desk to walk around it and sit in his chair with a 
soft thud. 
 
"I tried to ring her.." he looked up. "Several 
times..." 
 
"No answer?" he asked surprised and Mulder 
nodded. 
 
"She's not answering her home or cellular..." 
 
Skinner took a deep intake of breath and held it 
for a moment, contemplating 
something. When his gaze focussed back on Mulder, he 
allowed the pent up air to 
escape through his lips. 
 
"She's not usually late.." he stated and Mulder 
nodded silently. 
 
"She's not sick?" he asked and Mulder shook his 
head. 
 
Skinner nodded. 
 
"Well, if she's not answering..." he began, 
looking at the poster hanging 
behind Mulder's head. "We better go check it out..." 
 
Mulder rose as Skinner turned to leave. 
 
"We?" he asked and Skinner turned. 
 
"Do you have a problem with my coming with you 
Agent Mulder?" he asked and 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
"No sir, it's just that...." 
 
Skinner looked expectantly at him. 
 
"Nothing..." Mulder assured. "I'll get my car..." 
 
Skinner nodded and exited without another word. 
Mulder stared at the vacant 
chair across from his desk. He sighed and licked his 
upper lip, picking up his 
jacket and sliding it across his shoulders. 
 
Walking towards the door, Mulder stopped when he 
was in front of her desk. He 
paused for a moment, looking at her chair, feeling the 
slightest hint of 
apprehension but in a blink it was gone. 
 
He turned to go, his hand on the doorknob and he 
closed the door, locking it 
behind him. 
 
 
 
 
Dana Scully residence. 
Georgia. 
September 14th. 
9:01am. 
 
 
Skinner stood silently beside Mulder as they 
awaited the elevator doors to open. He was trying to 
work out in his mind why the hell Scully was late. He 
didn't want to think the worst so he kept his mind 
trained on thoughts like sickness or maybe she got a 
puncture on the way to the office. 
 
"And didn't answer her cell-phone?" 
 
Maybe she forgot to charge the battery and it 
wouldn't work... 
 
"Pay-phone?" 
 
He watched absently as Mulder exited through the 
opening doors, his footsteps urgent and determined. 
Skinner followed on impulse, his feet almost moving 
without his knowledge. 
 
But when Mulder stopped outside Scully's 
apartment and withdrew his gun, 
Skinner's mind cleared of happy scenarios and his mind 
slid into 'FBI' phase. 
 
Withdrawing his own gun, he stood on the right 
side of the ajar door and followed as Mulder entered 
slowly. 
 
When they were actually inside the apartment, 
they stopped and Skinner could 
almost sense Mulder's emotions through his body 
language. His shoulder's slumped and his gun dropped 
to his side as he surveyed the scene in front of him. 
 
Everything was in disarray. The couch was 
upturned, the glass-topped coffee table was smashed 
and there were books and papers everywhere. Mulder 
turned from the mess to look at Skinner, pain and 
anguish written all over his features. 
 
"Is she here?" Skinner heard himself ask and 
Mulder seemed to snap into some kind of self-control. 
He began to search through the apartment as Skinner 
walked through the living room. 
 
He stopped in his tracks to take a closer looks 
at the coffee table, or lack 
of one. His fingers reached down and were tempted to 
run across something he didn't see when he was further 
away, blood. 
 
He sighed as he gazed at the thick substance, 
awe-struck. His fingers tentatively reached out. 
 
"She's not..." he heard a voice begin from behind 
him and he turned to see Mulder staring at his 
superior's hands. "Here..." he finished. 
 
Skinner watched as Mulder stared at his fingers. 
He wiped his hand in a tissue and rose. 
 
"I think maybe we should call in the police..." 
he said and Mulder nodded numbly, walking past Skinner 
and kneeling beside the upturned coffee table. His 
fingers traced the pieces of broken wood and glass and 
he sighed. 
 
"Where the hell are you Scully?" 
 
 
 
 
 
Apartment #34 
(Adjacent to Dana Scully residence.) 
11:15am 
 
 
Mulder stared at the balding man in front of him 
and allowed the pent-up air 
infused in his lungs to escape. Skinner looked out of 
the corner of his eyes 
towards the agent and then returned his gaze to the 
man in front of him. 
 
"Mr Hopkins, were you aware that your neighbour 
was an agent with the FBI?" 
he asked and Mulder watched as the man leaned against 
his door frame. 
 
"No, I wasn't aware that she was... "he replied 
and straightened up under 
Mulder's glare. "I thought she was a cop or 
something...." 
 
"We believe that she may have been attacked last 
night..." Skinner stated. 
"We were wondering if you heard anything?" 
 
Hopkins stared at Mulder and then at Skinner and 
then he shook his head. 
 
"I didn't see or hear anything unusual last 
night..." 
 
"What about earlier this morning?" Skinner 
supplied and Hopkins stared at 
him for a moment before answering. 
 
"No, nothing..." 
 
Mulder's self-control broke and he stood up to 
his full height. 
 
"You had to hear something!" he almost yelled and 
Skinner placed a hand on 
his arm. 
 
"Mulder.." he warned but Mulder yanked his arm 
away from Skinner and turned 
to face him. 
 
"Her apartment is ripped apart for Christ's 
sake!" 
 
"Mulder..." Skinner threatened, his voice harsher 
than before. "Thank you 
for your time Mr Hopkins, we'll question you further 
at a future date..." 
 
Hopkins glared at Mulder before closing the door 
in their faces. Skinner 
spun around to face Mulder. 
 
"If we're going to find her, you've got to keep a 
level head..." he warned 
and Mulder shook his head. 
 
"The man is right beside her apartment, there's 
no way that he could have 
slept through what went on in there...." he fumed and 
Skinner sighed. 
 
"Maybe not, but yelling at him and accusing him 
won't get us anywhere...." 
 
Mulder shook his head and gritted his teeth. 
Skinner watched as the small 
veins on the side of his neck stuck out slightly and 
he could see the blood 
coursing through them. 
 
Both men turned at the same time as a police 
officer approached them. 
 
"Assistant Director Skinner?" he questioned and 
Skinner nodded. 
 
"What is it?" he asked and the officer through a 
look to Mulder before 
answering. 
 
"It's Agent Scully's car..." he said. "We've 
found it.." 
 
"Where?" Mulder demanded before Skinner had the 
chance. 
 
"Near a motel on the outskirts of DC...." he 
answered and handed Mulder the 
piece of paper with the address printed clearly on it. 
Mulder snapped it from him 
and glanced at it. 
 
"I know this motel, it's an hour's drive away..." 
he stated and Skinner 
nodded. "Did they find Scully?" 
 
The officer stared at the ground before 
answering. 
 
"The owner said that she checked in with a 
man..." he answered and Mulder's 
eyebrow rose. 
 
"A man?" he asked. "What man?" 
 
The officer shrugged. 
 
"We don't know that sir, the room was booked in 
Agent Scully's name.." 
 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
"I don't understand...." he stated. "Why would 
they go to a motel on the 
outskirts of DC?" 
 
The officer sighed. 
 
"There's more.." he began and swallowed. "The 
motel room that she 
rented...." he paused. "It's now an official 
crime-scene...." 
 
 
 
 
En Route to Sleep 'N Inn. 
September 14th 2000. 
12:27pm. 
 
 
Mulder's hands were at two and ten on the wheel 
as he continued to drive in 
silence. There hadn't been a word between them since 
they had entered the car 
over an hour ago. Mulder's eyes remained fixed on the 
road but every now and 
then, Skinner could see his jaw clench and his eyes 
stare at the road with 
something resembling anger. 
 
The officer hadn't known much more, other than 
there had been a murder and 
he didn't know who had even been killed. For all he 
knew, Mulder could've been 
standing in that apartment while she was lying dying 
in a strange motel room. 
 
He shook his head. 
 
"This doesn't add up.." he stated finally and 
Skinner turned from staring 
out the window to look at him. "I mean, Scully 
wouldn't go to a motel room with a 
man she didn't know..." 
 
"We don't know that she didn't know him..." 
Skinner replied and Mulder shook 
his head. 
 
"So you're saying that someone she knew attacked 
her in her apartment?" 
 
Skinner sighed. 
 
"I didn't say that...." he replied. "Let's just 
wait and see what the crime 
scene holds..." 
 
"You mean to wait and see if she's the one lying 
murdered on the floor in 
cold blood...." 
 
Skinner stared out the window again, his chin 
resting on his hand. 
 
"We don't know that she's dead...." he replied. 
"For all we know, it could 
be the man she checked in with..." 
 
Mulder's brow furrowed. 
 
"Something doesn't make sense...." he said, 
pulling the car into the parking 
lot of the motel. "Something's wrong...." 
 
A man in a uniform came running out from one of 
the rooms as Skinner opened 
the door. 
 
"Are you the FBI?" he asked and Skinner nodded, 
seeing Mulder exit the car 
from the other side. He stared at the officer. 
 
"Yes, we're from the FBI...." he replied, 
flashing his badge and the officer 
sighed and scratched his forehead. 
 
"We're glad that you're here..." he began, 
stepping back to allow Skinner to 
exit the car. "I mean, I've seen some pretty nasty 
stuff in my time but this has 
to take the biscuit..." 
 
"What have you got?" Skinner asked, aware of 
Mulder's close proximity to 
him. He was waiting with bated breath to hear the 
officer's answer. 
 
"John Doe..." he replied and Skinner saw Mulder 
sigh with relief and close 
his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, there was 
both determination and 
something else which Skinner couldn't decipher, in 
their depths. 
 
"It's nasty I tell you, plain nasty...." 
 
"In what way?" Mulder asked, keeping stride with 
the officer and Skinner. 
They reached the entrance to the motel room and Mulder 
stared inside. 
 
The room was in disarray and everything was 
thrown around. Mulder had been 
in bad motel rooms before, but this? It looked like a 
mini 
tornado had been set loose in the room. 
 
Mulder turned back to the officer to hear his 
response and noticed that he 
had turned completely pale. 
 
"He was drowned in the tub in the bathroom..." he 
began, swallowing. "And 
all of his fingers were removed....." 
 
Mulder winced and whistled gently. 
 
"Ouch..." 
 
The officer nodded and his eyebrows lifted. 
 
"That's not all...." he added and Mulder looked 
expectantly at him. 
 
"There's more?" he asked and Skinner sighed. 
 
"He's missing his family jewels.." he said, his 
voice lowering slightly and 
coughing. 
 
Mulder swallowed and bit his upper lip. 
 
"Ohh boy...." he muttered, turning away from the 
door. He suddenly felt the 
greatest turn in his stomach. 
 
"You're kidding..." Skinner stated and the 
officer stared at him. 
 
"Would I kid about something like that?" he 
paused. "I mean, fingers are one 
thing but...." 
 
"Thanks officer, that's enough for the moment..." 
Mulder said, holding up 
his hand. The officer nodded and pointed inside the 
room. 
 
"That's detective Joe Keane...." he said, turning 
back to Mulder and 
Skinner. "He's in charge of the investigation..." 
 
As the officer entered through the door, Skinner 
turned to Mulder. 
 
"Do you want to go in?" he asked and Mulder shook 
his head. 
 
"I wanna take a look at her car..." he said and 
Skinner nodded, following 
Mulder as he approached the blue sedan parked on the 
sidewalk. 
 
"It's not parked properly..." Mulder observed and 
Skinner stood and watched as 
he went to the door. 
 
"So?" 
 
Mulder tried the handle and found it open, he 
looked up to Skinner. 
 
"The door's open too..." he added and entered the 
car, sitting down in the 
driver's seat. Skinner walked around and stood beside 
the open door. 
 
"I don't see the connection Mulder,” he said and 
Mulder looked as he opened the glove compartment. 
 
"Scully would rather say she believed in aliens 
than to leave and car like this..." he said and looked 
into the glove compartment. "And she wouldn't leave 
her car open..." he looked up to smile slightly at 
Skinner. "I've thought her too well over the 
years...." 
 
Skinner didn't return the smile as he walked 
around to the other side of the car. Mulder didn't 
bother to look at him and instead continued searching 
the car. 
 
He pulled out a road map from the compartment and 
looked at it for a moment 
before tossing it to one side. He pulled out a pack of 
sunflower seeds and stared 
at them, an amazing sense of sadness building up in 
him. 
 
He turned the packet over and saw that it was 
open, she was eating sunflower 
seeds, looked like he'd rubbed off on her more than he 
thought. 
 
He placed them almost like a sacrifice on the 
dashboard and found only three 
other items in the compartment. He stared at them for 
a moment before removing 
the first and staring at it for a moment, a prayer 
typed neatly on a plastic card. After glancing at it, 
he discovered that it was a prayer to St. Christopher. 
 
The second was a piece of paper with something he 
couldn't read written all 
over and it was when he was about to remove the third 
item that he slid on his 
latex gloves and reached in. 
 
Her gun. 
 
He turned it over in his hands as his mind began 
to wonder if she could have done what the officer had 
told them. He sighed and stared, transfixed. 
 
He didn't hear Skinner open the door, nor did he 
see him sit beside him. It 
wasn't until he spoke that Mulder's thoughts returned 
to the present. 
 
"Our Mr John Doe is a Mark Hobbs..." he stated, 
handing Mulder a driving 
license. He stared at it and then when the letters hit 
him he turned to Skinner. 
 
"He's in the navy?" he asked, amazed and Skinner 
nodded. 
 
"Look's like our missing agent just got another
party looking for her..."
Sleep 'N Inn. 
September 14th 2000. 
2:05pm. 
 
 
Mulder ran an almost shaking hand through his 
hair as he sighed and bent down to examine the objects 
outlined in white chalk spread across the floor. They 
were from a bag. 
 
Scully's bag. 
 
Her personal possessions. 
 
He gulped slowly as he wiped a hand over his face 
and rose. He had been avoiding the immanent for as 
long as was humanly possible. He took a deep breath 
and walked past the three officers bent over the floor 
and pushed the door to the bathroom open slowly. 
 
There were two officers in there and a late crime 
scene photographer packing away his equipment into the 
bag. 
 
The first thing he saw was the blood. It was 
everywhere. It was spread across the white tiles below 
him and splattered across the walls, covering all 
sides. 
 
He could feel his stomach roiling. Scully was 
usually the one that took care of detailing the body, 
now he was taking care of it because Scully not only 
couldn't, but also may have done it. He reprimanded 
himself immediately for thinking that. 
 
He looked to the mirror, seeing the distorted 
image of himself reflected back and he licked his 
upper lip as he finally turned to the bath-tub. 
 
The white enamel was covered in red blotches and 
long slivers of red ooze. His eyes went around the 
edge of the bathtub; his eyes taking in the ten neatly 
placed fingers surrounding the water. 
 
The water. 
 
The blood. 
 
The body. 
 
He gazed down at the man, still lying in his own 
blood and he looked to the photographer who actually 
smiled towards him. 
 
"Not a good day for the FBI,” he stated and 
Mulder's anger took over from the sickness in his 
stomach. 
 
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded and the 
photographer shrugged and grinned slightly, almost as 
if he were happy to be there. 
 
"Word is that it was one of your gals who did 
this," he picked up his last bag. "Women," he said, 
allowing the statement to hang in the air and Mulder 
could do nothing but stare after him. 
 
He didn't even bother to take a closer look into 
the bathtub, just walked out. He couldn't take it, he 
had to get fresh air and he had to get it now. 
 
Rushing past the various officers, he raced 
outside and threw up next to the bushes flanking 
the front door. He retched until he tasted nothing 
but bile, and then he spent a further ten minutes 
dry-heaving. Swallowing, he rose, wiping a hand behind 
his neck and closing his eyes. 
 
"Tough day?" he heard from behind him and he 
turned to see a man, slightly smaller than himself, 
with a cigarette in his mouth. He removed it and blew 
some smoke into the air, watching momentarily as it 
drifted away. 
 
"Your superior tells me that you were the 
suspect's partner," 
 
"Yes, I *am* the partner of Dana Scully," he 
replied, putting emphasis on the present tense. He 
didn't like this man, he didn't like him one bit. 
 
"Has she done anything like this before?" 
 
"Like what?" 
 
"You looked in the bathroom?" he asked and Mulder 
nodded. "That's what I'm talking about," 
 
Mulder took a deep breath. 
 
"There's nothing to suggest that Scully did 
this," he protested and Detective Keane licked his lip 
thoughtfully as he took another puff of the cigarette 
an nodded sarcastically. 
 
"Nothing at all, apart from the fact that it was 
*her* motel room that he was killed in." He paused. 
"That it’s probably her fingerprints are all over the 
bathroom," 
 
"It was her room, of course her fingerprints were 
in there," 
 
"These fingerprints were formed with blood," he 
stated coldly. "And that would mean that she was there 
*after* the murder," 
 
"Maybe she walked in on them," he futilely added 
and Keane sighed. 
 
"And ran away?" he offered. Mulder remained 
silent. "You're telling me that an FBI agent that's 
been doing her job for over 8 years ran away from a 
killer?" 
 
Mulder still said nothing. 
 
"Maybe it's me Agent Mulder, or the cigarettes," 
he paused, looking intently at the glowing ember in 
his hand. "But," he looked up. "I don't see how an 
experienced agent with the federal bureau of 
investigation 'runs away'" 
 
Mulder stared at him coldly. 
 
"I'll bet my retirement on the chance that the 
finger-prints found on the body belong to your missing 
partner and I should warn you that if they are, 
because of the victim's connections, you'd better hope 
that you get to her before someone who isn't worried 
about the "if's" and "why's"," 
 
He stubbed the cigarette on the ground and stood 
on it, turning his heel on it three times to make sure 
it was out. He stared at it for a moment and then 
turned his gaze towards Mulder again. His eyes 
remained stony and he swallowed and turned away, 
around the corner and walked back into the motel room. 
 
Mulder turned and stared after him and he didn't 
blink for what seemed like the longest time. His mind 
filled with images of Scully defending herself, of her 
firing her gun and of her rescuing him and he turned 
to the door of the motel room. 
 
Could she really have done such a thing? 
 
 
 
 
Sleep 'N Inn Motel. 
September 14th 2000. 
5:17pm. 
 
 
Mulder stared at the brochure, blankly reading 
over the details. When he looked up, he couldn't even 
remember what he'd read and he'd been reading the same 
thing for the last twenty minutes. 
 
He sighed and turned to look at the vacant 
opening where the owner of the motel should be 
standing. He'd been waiting for twenty minutes. He'd 
walked in and the woman who owned the place had been 
walking out, muttering something about a 'well 
deserved break' and she would be back in 'ten 
minutes'. 
 
Twenty minutes on and if this case wasn't so 
important, he'd have walked out by now. He turned as 
the glass-panelled door opened and the woman walked 
in, passing him with a smile on her lips. 
 
"Sorry," she apologised, disappearing for a 
moment behind the wall and re-appearing in the small 
window a moment later. "Break, you know how it is," 
 
She picked up three or four papers from the desk 
and shoved them underneath it and rose, smiling again. 
 
"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked. 
"Business or pleasure?" 
 
Mulder stared at the 40-ish year old woman with 
her red-painted lips and peroxide-dyed hair before 
reaching into his pocket and holding up his badge. 
 
"Business," he stated. "I'm Special Agent Mulder 
with the FBI.." 
 
The woman's smiling face dropped and she sighed. 
 
"You're here about the murder aren't you?" she 
asked, a hint of anger in her tone. "I've had no 
customers all day and when I think one comes walking 
in…” she stared. "It's one of the people who caused 
this whole thing in the first place," 
 
Mulder replaced his badge and sighed, taking a 
step forward. 
 
"Can I talk to you for a few minutes?" he asked, 
giving her his best 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' 
stare that Scully had so often given way under. 
 
She sighed. 
 
"I don't really have a choice do I?" she stated 
and nodded. 
 
"You rented a room to Dana Scully?" he asked and 
she nodded. "And she wasn't alone?" 
 
She shook her head. “No, she had a man with her," 
 
Mulder held up a picture of Mark Hobbs. 
 
"Is this the man?" he asked and the woman reached 
into her pocket and removed her glasses, placing them 
on her nose. 
 
"No…" she said, shaking her head again. "That 
wasn't him," 
 
She pocketed the glasses. 
 
"You know, the other officers never asked about 
the man," she offered. "The man that she had with her 
when she booked the room was," she paused, thinking. 
"A little smaller then you and had dark black hair," 
 
"Is that all you remember about him?" he asked 
and she sighed. 
 
"They booked the room about 10 last night and it 
was getting late, I was tired," 
 
Mulder nodded. 
 
"I understand that, Mrs Roberts," 
 
"Barbara…" 
 
"Barbara…" he repeated, trying to smile. "But did 
anything seem out of place?" 
 
"Out of place?" she repeated, her eyebrows 
rising. "I'm not sure what you mean by that," 
 
Mulder sighed. 
 
"This place is pretty far out of DC, what kind of 
customers do you usually get?" 
 
She looked at him reluctantly. 
 
"Passer-bys," she said and he nodded, thinking. 
 
"There wouldn't be many passer-by's that would 
stop only an hour out of DC," 
 
She sighed. 
 
"Couples.." 
 
"Excuse me?" 
 
"Couples come, they order a room for the night 
and I don't ask any questions," 
 
"You mean they order a room for the purpose of 
sex?" 
 
She raised her eyes up slightly and then stared 
at Mulder and shrugged. 
 
"I don't ask any questions," 
 
He nodded. "Did it seem like Agent Scully and the 
man rented a room for this purpose?" 
 
"At first I thought that was the reason, I mean 
it was 10 o'clock and as you said, nobody would stop 
here when DC is only an hour away," 
 
"What do you mean by saying 'at first'," 
 
"Well, after the cops arrived this morning, I 
started to remember the way they'd acted," she paused. 
"It was kind of weird.." 
 
"Weird?" 
 
"Well, the guy didn't speak and I'm not being 
sexiest or anything but it is usually the guy who gets 
the room," she took a breath and paused. "And when I 
asked for her name she said "Dana Scully.." 
 
Mulder paused. 
 
"Is there anything else that you can tell me?" 
 
She shrugged and sighed. 
 
"All I know is, her car was among five there this 
morning and when I got up at 7am, there were six cars 
and no new people rented a room," 
 
Mulder nodded. 
 
"Thank you Barbara," he said and gave a watered 
smile, turning from the counter and beginning to walk 
to the door. 
 
"Sir?" she called and Mulder turned. "You said 
your name was Maulder?" 
 
He almost winced at her pronunciation of his name 
but nodded. 
 
"Well.." she said, reaching under the counter and 
pulling out a piece of paper. "This was here for you 
when I got in.." 
 
Mulder threw a puzzled look towards her. 
 
"For me?" he asked and she nodded. 
 
"I guess it's for you, that's the only name on 
the page, although I didn't know it was a name until 
you said it," 
 
He nodded, throwing another watered smile towards 
her before taking the piece of paper in his hand and 
staring at it. There was only one sentence on it. 
 
<I don't know how it happened> 
 
Mulder suddenly felt the world crumble around 
him. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Mulder saw Skinner talking to a man in a uniform 
as he approached, but he didn't care. 
 
"Sir?" he asked and Skinner turned away from the 
man in front of him. "I've found something," 
 
"What?" he asked and Mulder could swear that he 
saw something in his superior's eyes that resembled 
hope. 
 
"It's a note and it's from Scully.." 
 
"What does it say?" Skinner demanded and Mulder 
handed it to him. Skinner read it and looked up. 
 
"How can you be sure that it's from Scully?" 
 
"Who else would have left it here for me?" he 
asked and Skinner looked at the note again. 
 
"She knew that we'd find her car here," 
 
Skinner stared at him for a moment before the man 
standing in behind him spoke up. 
 
"Can I see that note?" he asked and Skinner 
handed it to him, no questions asked. The grey-haired 
man read it silently and then looked up. 
 
"You're saying this is from the suspect?" he 
asked and Mulder wanted to shout 'stop fucking calling 
her that you stupid bunch of ass-holes!’ but he 
settled for a simple… 
 
"Yes." 
 
"And you're telling me that she's saying she 
doesn't know how it happened," 
 
"She's saying she didn't do it.." 
 
"No," he corrected. "She's saying that she 
doesn't know how it happened," 
 
Mulder sighed and stared at Skinner, hoping to 
hear some words of encouragement but his superior 
simply stared at him for a moment before speaking. 
 
"Agent Mulder, this is Jackson Barnes from the 
Naval office," 
 
"You're Dana Scully's partner?" Barnes asked and 
Mulder stared at him coldly. 
 
"Yes." 
 
"Well Agent Mulder, we're not even sure if this 
is Agent Scully's handwriting," he paused. "Let alone 
her explanation," 
 
"Test it if you don't believe me." Mulder almost 
accused and Barnes smiled slightly. 
 
"Don't worry, it's top of my agenda, along with 
actually finding her…" 
 
"And the man," Mulder added and Barnes didn't 
reply, just turned and walked into the motel room. 
 
Mulder spun around to face Skinner. 
 
"They've already got their minds made up for 
Christ's sake, why bother with an investigation, they 
should just go ahead and set out the hounds," 
 
"I think the man you spoke with there, is one of 
them," Skinner replied and Mulder stared at him for a 
moment before speaking. 
 
"We have to find her," Mulder stated. 
 
Skinner sighed, scratching his jaw with his index 
finger. "I'm open to any suggestions," 
 
 
 
 
Zuka Bar. 
September 14th 2000. 
7:19pm. 
 
 
Leaning back into the chair he sighed, swirling 
the multi-coloured umbrella that was situated in his 
glass around between his index and middle fingers. He 
gazed in the direction that his date had left over a 
half hour ago. 
 
"Big Loss," he muttered, laughing slightly. As 
his gaze was drifting back to his glass, it stopped at 
the bar. 
 
The bar wasn't full, in fact it was barely among 
the land of the living and he'd given up hope of 
finding somebody to go out with, chalking it up as a 
lost night. 
 
Maybe his luck was changing. 
 
He rose and half-sauntered towards the bar, 
sitting on the stool adjacent to the woman and 
signalled the bartender for a refill. 
 
"Can I buy you another?" he asked, watching as 
she downed the last of her own drink. She nearly 
slammed it down on the tabletop. 
 
"I'm not in the mood Romeo," she snapped. 
 
He smiled ruefully and took a sip of his freshly 
filled glass, ignoring the bartender’s outstretched 
hand. "Come on, one little drink can’t hurt?” 
 
She turned and by the look on her face, he 
could've sworn that she was about to punch him but 
then it lightened up and her blue eyes stared at him 
for a moment before smiling warmly. It was as if two 
different women were in the same body. 
 
"I think you should pay the man." she stated. 
 
"Why's that?" he asked, already handing the man a 
$10 bill. 
 
She smiled and rose. 
 
"Because," she said, pulling him up with 
surprising strength. "I think we should skip the 
drinks and get a room," 
 
He was surprised but grinned. 
 
"I'd like to know your name," he said and she 
smiled warmly, her hand slipping around his waist. 
 
"You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," she 
said as he reached across her arm and pushed open the 
door. 
 
The fresh breeze hit them and he turned to her as 
she stopped. 
 
"How far's your apartment?" she almost demanded 
and he smiled. 
 
"You're eager aren't you?" he asked and now it 
was her turn to smile, pushing him against the wall. 
 
Her lips found his and she bestowed on him a 
hungry kiss. As she pulled away her hand slid further 
downwards until it stopped at his crotch. 
 
"Only if you are," she replied and he closed his 
eyes for a moment before blowing through his lips. 
 
"You didn't tell me your name," he said, staring 
into her blue eyes, trying to control his breathing. 
She seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering. 
 
"Dana," she replied, her composure returning and 
she smiled. "Now which way to your apartment?" 
 
He smiled as they began to walk away in the 
direction of his apartment, maybe tonight wasn't a 
lost cause after all,,.
Fox Mulder Residence. 
September 15th 2000. 
1:02am 
 
His back lay pressed against the unforgiving cushions 
of his leather sofa and he 
closed his eyes for what seemed like the millionth 
time since he'd lain down an 
hour ago. 
 
Couldn't sleep. 
 
Couldn't eat. 
 
Just think. 
 
His mind was running rampant on all kinds of scenarios 
and the one question that 
kept floating back to him was. Why did she run? 
 
If she wasn't guilty, then why would she be so afraid 
but then, his mind 
rationalized, if she didn't know she hadn't done it 
then she'd be afraid, very 
afraid. He could never imagine Scully losing her 
prized self-control. It was 
something she prided herself on, and apart from a few 
incidents which sprung to 
mind (one or two including the likes of Dr Bambi) he 
could never fault the facade 
she had built up over the years he'd known her. 
 
Could all that hiding her emotions finally have boiled 
and over-spilled onto the 
floor, making a mess he didn't want to have to clean 
up? 
 
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, opening his 
eyes and staring at the 
cracks on the ceiling. They were the same cracks that 
he's stared at when she'd 
been taken by Duanne Barry. They were the same cracks 
that he'd stared at when 
she'd developed cancer and he thought that there was 
nothing he could do. 
 
Some things never changed. 
 
Some things did. 
 
And Scully landed in both categories. 
 
He'd have sworn on his life only two days ago that he 
could depend on Scully to 
waltz into their office bright and early, ready to 
greet whatever he threw at 
her with a sarcastic comment and an uplifted eyebrow. 
He could've sworn two days ago that she wouldn't hurt 
a fly unless it was in self-defence. He would've sworn 
his life two days ago that this could never have 
happened and that she would never have changed. 
 
Boy was he wrong. 
 
His mind butted in and reminded him the state of her 
apartment. She'd been taken 
by force. 
 
Or tore it apart. 
 
He sighed and swallowed slowly, trying to make some 
headway from all the thoughts 
that he was thinking, but finding it a daunting task 
that he didn't relish. 
 
There had been blood at her apartment and until he 
actually heard her say she did 
it, he was *not* going to believe otherwise. 
 
He closed his eyes, finally finding relief from the 
silent declaration he'd made 
to her and wondered if he might find some sleep but as 
soon as he felt that his 
eyes were drifting further, the phone rung. 
 
His hand reached for the receiver and he picked it up 
and held it to his ear. 
 
"Mulder..." he replied and awaited the response but 
there was none. He sat up. 
 
"Hello?" he questioned but there was nothing, not even 
breathing or any noise in 
the background and then, to both his utter surprise 
and confusion, there was a 
cough and then a heavy click. 
 
He stared at it for a moment, knowing that it would be 
useless to try and trace 
the call through the FBI, there wouldn't have been 
enough time for them to get a 
trace. 
 
His mind could only hope that it was her. The fact 
that his body was tingling 
with excitement was something that fuelled the hope. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
"I'm glad you guys could come..." he said, closing the 
door behind Frohike and he turned, his eyes slightly 
closed from lack of sleep. 
 
"This had better be an end of the world plague Mulder, 
or you're in for some 
serious ass-kicking..." he stated, his voce rough and 
Mulder nodded, leading them 
into the living room. 
 
"I got a call from a number and I need it traced..." 
 
 
"You need a trace?" Frohike demanded, his face 
falling. "I missed dreaming about a night in with a 
certain red-headed Special Agent for a trace?" 
 
Mulder swallowed. 
 
"She's missing..." 
 
"Who?" Frohike asked and Byers turned to Mulder, 
ignoring Frohike's question. 
 
"When?" he asked and Frohike finally seemed to wake 
up. 
 
"Scully's missing?" he asked and gritted his teeth. 
"Those rat-bastards better not have touched her...." 
 
"I found out that she was missing when she didn't turn 
up for work the other day. 
We found her car in a motel called the Sleep 'n 
Inn..." 
 
"Was she there?" Langly asked and Mulder shook his 
head. 
 
"She was gone, but there was a Captain from the navy 
there instead..." 
 
"What'd he say?" Byers asked and Mulder shrugged, 
sitting down on the arm of his 
couch. 
 
"He was pretty quiet...." He began, looking to his 
hands. “For a dead guy..." 
 
"How did he die?" 
 
Mulder sighed and looked up from his hands. "Let's 
just say that it wasn't a 
pretty sight..." 
 
"And they think that the people who took Scully did 
it?" 
 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
"They think that it was Scully don't they?" Frohike 
assumed and when Mulder 
didn't answer he began to pace. 
 
"Those fucking rat-bsatards!" he fumed. "How could 
they even think that Scully 
could do anything like that?" he stopped pacing and 
turned to face the other guys 
and then turned to Mulder. "We'll do anything we can 
to help." 
 
Mulder nodded, now glad that he wasn't the only one 
who believed in Scully. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1 hour later. 
 
 
Mulder stared at Frohike as he gazed into the monitor 
of his laptop. He had such 
concentration on his face that Mulder could swear the 
veins on the side of his 
temples were about to burst from the effort. 
 
He turned back into the kitchen where Byers was 
making some coffee and sighed, wiping a hand across 
his forehead. 
 
"Do you think that the call was from her?" he asked, 
turning from Mulder and 
filling up the kettle with water. Mulder remained 
silent and leaned against the 
counter. 
 
"Her apartment was torn apart, they found her blood 
everywhere..." 
 
"Was it enough to say that she was killed?" Byers 
asked and Mulder shook his 
head. "Then there's still hope...." 
 
"Her car shows up at the motel and I find out that 
she appeared there with an 
unidentified man and then another man shows up 
dead..." Mulder shrugged. “I don’t even know how she 
left the motel. She couldn’t have walked, it’s in the 
middle of nowhere.” 
 
Byers sighed and turned to face Mulder. 
 
"That's still not enough to say that she did it...." 
He replied and Mulder 
nodded. 
 
"I know, but I can't help but think that there's 
something I'm missing, 
something which is staring me right in the face and 
I'm just not seeing it..." 
 
Byers was silent for a moment as he stared at Frohike 
and Langly sitting on 
Mulder's sofa. 
 
"If you start to have doubts as to whether she really 
did do this..." he paused. 
"Then she has nobody left to believe her..." 
 
He turned and managed to find four clean mugs in one 
of Mulder's presses. 
 
"You said yourself that the navy, police and probably 
the FBI, have all made 
up their minds as to who done it..." he placed the 
mugs on the counter beside the 
boiled kettle. "Do you honestly think that she has a 
chance if you don't believe 
her?" 
 
Mulder didn't answer, just stared at the water being 
emptied into the four mugs, 
one by one and then he turned as Frohike almost ran 
into the kitchen. 
 
"We got it!" he cried. "We've got an address for the 
number..." 
 
 
 
 
Kevin Larney Residence. 
September 15th 2000. 
2:49am. 
 
 
 
He rose up from the ground and stared at the mess 
that surrounded him. Smiling, he turned and looked to 
the man lying below him. 
 
He shook his head, almost in pity, but then his 
reserves returned and he smiled 
down at him. The man's glassy eyes returned the gaze 
only partly as his breath 
came in gasps and pants. The man standing over him 
smiled again. 
 
"Thought that you were lucky didn't you Kevin?" he 
asked and the man swallowed feebly in response. "You 
never did know what it was that you got yourself 
into..." 
 
The smile began to disappear from his face as he 
reached into his pocket and 
withdrew the gun from it. He pulled off the safety 
clip and pointed it to the 
limp body of Kevin Larney and sighed. 
 
"I didn't want this to happen to you Kevin..." he 
said in unison with the bang 
of the shot being fired. 
 
He stood for a moment and stared at the now bloody 
body of Kevin Larney and then replaced his gun slowly 
in his pocket. He spun around as he heard the door 
being kicked in and an almost frantic look crossed his 
features as he made his way 
to the fire escape. 
 
"FBI!" he heard as he pulled the window open. 
 
Mulder stared at the body for a moment before 
realising that there was a noise 
coming from the back of the apartment. 
 
He threw a look to the Lone Gunmen before running off 
in the direction of the 
noise. He found a man climbing out the fire escape. 
 
"Freeze!" he cried and the man didn't even bother to 
turn around as he fired a 
shot in Mulder’s direction. He felt it make contact 
with the flesh of his arm as he fell to the ground. 
Clutching the arm, he rose and continued to follow the 
possible murderer out the window. 
 
He reached the end of the fire escape shortly after 
the suspect and saw him jump into the back of a black 
sedan. The car pulled off, with Scully in the driver's 
seat and a gun to her head. 
 
 
 
 
Washington Memorial Hospital. 
September 15th 2000. 
3:56am. 
 
 
 
 
He winced as the last stitch was placed in the wound 
on his upper arm. He closed his eyes as he gritted his 
teeth and the doctor finished up. 
 
"Sorry Agent Mulder..." she said smiling, pushing the 
bandage into place and he 
winced again. "Maybe this will teach you not to go 
around getting shot...." 
 
He nodded sarcastically and threw her a fake smile. 
Skinner pulled back the 
curtain on his bed and looked to the doctor. 
 
"He'll be fine Mr Skinner..." she assured. "The 
bullet took a chunk from 
his arm, but nothing he can't live without..." 
 
She turned to Mulder. 
 
"But it'll leave a nasty scar when it's healed...." 
 
He simply nodded his thanks and sighed as Skinner 
pulled the curtain around them both. 
 
"What the hell happened in there Mulder?" he demanded 
and Mulder rose, pulling his jacket on slowly. 
 
"She didn't do it..." he said, shaking his head. "I 
saw the man who did." 
 
"Can you identify him?" 
 
Mulder shook his head almost sadly. 
 
"I didn't get a clear look at him when I chased him 
and by the time I got to the 
ground after him, he'd jumped into a car..." he paused 
and stared at Skinner. 
"Scully was the driver..." 
 
"What?" Skinner asked, surprised. "I thought you said 
she didn't do it." 
 
"I said that she didn't do the killing..." he shook 
his head again. "She had a 
gun to her head Sir, she was being forced..." 
 
"But why?" he asked and Mulder shrugged. 
 
"There's something that I'm missing..." 
 
"We'd better find out...."he said and looked over his 
shoulder on impulse. 
"Because I don't think that anyone will believe your 
word when you say that you 
say an unidentified man running off with your partner, 
and their suspect, driving it at gunpoint...."
 
Unknown Place or Time. 
 
The thumping only got louder. Each bang echoed inside 
her skull until it got to the point of no return and 
she opened her eyes. Her wrists ached, like when she’d 
taken those self-defence classes back at Quantico. Her 
throat was dry and tight, and she swallowed to ease 
the burn. 
 
"Morning sunshine." a voice greeted and she turned, 
finding now that her arms were fastened tightly to the 
bed on which she lay. "You put up some fight last 
night, I can tell you that much." 
 
"What the fuck are you on about?" she demanded, 
staring at him for a moment before shaking her head. 
"Who was I fighting with, the only one I remember 
fighting with was that ass-hole from the bar." 
 
"I see we have you back then." he commented, reaching 
across her and untying one arm, he stared at her for a 
moment before releasing her left hand. "I'd like to 
say it was fun having her, but we wouldn't want to 
lie, would we?" 
 
"Who are you talking about?" she asked, massaging her 
wrists gently with the tips of her fingers. "Had you 
another girl around last night?" 
 
He smiled and sat at the edge of the bed, removing 
the covers that were draped around her thigh. He 
graced her skin with his finger, tracing an imaginary 
path down to her ankle. 
 
"You know I'd never do that to you." 
 
"You're forgetting that I already caught you." she 
retorted and he smiled. 
 
"That was a big mistake." he replied and kissed her 
passionately on the lips. She pulled away and lay back 
against the headboard. 
 
"I'm not that easy to win over." she replied and he 
nodded, smiling. 
 
"I know Dana, I know." 
 
She stared at him, losing her train of thought. 
 
"Are you alright?" he asked and she nodded, smiling. 
 
"I'm fine Alex, I just need some action." 
 
"You'll get plenty of that tonight Dana, I'll see to 
it.." 
 
She smiled and draped her free arm around his 
shoulder. 
 
"I need something to drink, my mouth feels like it's 
been through hell and back.." 
 
 
 
- 
 
Krycek walked outside the room, closing the door 
behind him. 
 
"What the _fuck_ was that?" a voice demanded as soon 
as the door was closed. 
 
"Shut up!" he ordered, filling the glass in his hand 
with cold water. "She'll hear you." 
 
"So what if she fucking hears me, I hope she does, 
maybe it'll knock some damned sense into her head." 
the man in front of him yelled. "I mean, I hired you 
for a reason Krycek, but I can find men equally suited 
if you botch another job." 
 
"You wouldn't find anyone who could do the job." he 
paused, staring at the man in front of him. "And you 
and I both know that." 
 
"Of course I could find someone who could mess up as 
easily as that bitch in there!" he yelled and Krycek 
shook his head. 
 
"You were too much of a chicken to do it yourself, 
that's why I'm here." 
 
"I had to shoot him Krycek!" he screamed, beginning 
to pace around the small makeshift kitchen. "I had to 
pull the trigger, as I seem to remember, that was your 
job." 
 
"There was a problem.." 
 
"That's pretty obvious." he replied, sarcasm evident 
on his lips. "She couldn't finish the job." 
 
"What do you want me to say?" Krycek asked, aware of 
the other man’s intent gaze. 
 
"That it won't happen again." 
 
"It won't." Krycek replied. "I promise." 
 
"Well, if it does," He paused, taking the glass of 
water from his hand, flinging it against the wall. 
There was a momentary silence before he continued 
speaking. "She won't be the only one that I come 
after." 
 
Krycek stared after him and watched as he slammed the 
door behind him. 
 
"Who was that?" a voice asked from the bedroom and 
Krycek turned to see a very awake Dana Scully standing 
in the doorway, staring at the shattered glass on the 
floor. 
 
"Nobody worth worrying about." he replied, turning 
around to the sink and beginning to fill a second 
glass of water. "Go back to bed." 
 
"But." she began, encircling her arms around his 
waist. "I don't wanna." 
 
He spiralled around and thrust the glass into her 
hand. 
 
"I said get the fuck back to bed!" he ordered. 
 
Wide eyed, she stared at him for a moment before 
turning and closing the door behind her. 
 
His body heaved as he sighed and leaned against the 
sink, shaking his head. He was in deep shit and he 
knew it. Looking at the closed bedroom door he 
swallowed. He'd have to u the dosage for the last hit, 
it would hurt her more in the long term, but she'd 
recover and if he didn't, then he'd be dead and that 
wasn't exactly top on his list. 
 
Pulling open the drawer under the sink, he withdrew a 
needle and a small vile of silver liquid. What had to 
be done, had to be done. 
 
- 
 
Fox Mulder residence. 
September 15th 2000. 
9:01am. 
 
His head lay in his hands as Frohike turned to Byers. 
 
"Do you think he's alright?" he asked, looking back 
to Mulder's silent form on the couch in the darkness 
of the living room. 
 
"He's just been shot." Langly proclaimed. "How do you 
expect him to feel?" 
 
"No, I mean." Frohike paused. "He's been so quiet, 
I've never seen Mulder this quiet before." 
 
"Scully's missing." Byers stated as if he needed to 
remind them. "He feels as if he's lost his right arm." 
 
"And his left." Langly added. "Can't blame the dude, 
I mean it must be hard." 
 
"It's hard for everyone!" Frohike stated, a little 
too harsh for his own good as Mulder's head turned. 
Frohike swallowed as Mulder rose and took the few 
steps that were necessary for him to reach the kitchen 
and Frohike. He stared down at him for a second before 
blinking and then sighing heavily. 
 
"There's something I'm missing," he stated and 
Frohike couldn't help but sigh in relief, no thumping 
for him, at least not now. "I mean, why is she acting 
this way?" 
 
"You said that there was a gun to her head." Byers 
stated and Mulder nodded and shrugged. 
 
"But there's something else, I mean," he paused, 
leaning against the counter. "Who's this other guy 
that's in the picture?" 
 
"The one at the motel who checked in with her?" 
Langly asked and Mulder shook his head. 
 
"Yeah, but the other guy, I mean, there must be two 
as there was someone in the car apart from the one in 
the apartment." 
 
"So what are you getting at?" 
 
"Who would want to abduct Scully just to make her 
drive a stupid car away from a crime scene, it doesn't 
make sense." 
 
"Maybe they didn't get their driving permits." 
Frohike quipped and Mulder glared at him and Frohike 
scratched his ear as he looked away. 
 
"I don't know what to do." 
 
"There _is_ nothing you can do." Byers began. "I 
mean, there are no clues to follow, no prints to lift, 
at least none that weren’t Scully's or the victim' 
anyway." 
 
"But there has to be something, there's no such thing 
as a perfect crime." 
 
"What did Skinner say at the hospital?" Langly asked 
and Mulder snorted, almost in disgust. 
 
"He said that I'd better find some evidence to 
co-berate my statement." 
 
The shrilling of the phone broke up their 
conversation and Byers reached for the receiver. 
 
"Yeah.he's right here.hold on," he said, handing the 
phone to Mulder. "It's Skinner. 
 
"Sir?" he asked, staring intently at the floor and he 
nodded numbly. "Yes, I understand." 
 
He held the receiver in his hand, swallowing as he 
turned to the gunmen. 
 
"They’ve found the gun used in the last murder, it’s 
not Scully’s….” Mulder stated, staring blankly at the 
floor. 
 
“That’s good right?” 
 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
“Her prints are all over the one they found.” 
Fox Mulder Residence. 
September 15th 2000. 
10:17am. 
 
Mulder stared at the three of them for a moment 
before replacing the receiver on the hook and his 
fingers lingered on the cool plastic before rising to 
run through his hair. 
 
"Don't say anything," he ordered and the three looked 
to each other. "Langly, have you got your equipment 
with you?" 
 
"Equipment?" he asked, his mind running through the 
100's of possibilities that Mulder could mean. Mulder 
turned around, hands folded across his chest. 
 
"Your portrait equipment?" 
 
"You want me to draw?" 
 
"The man that shot me..." 
 
Langly shrugged, walking towards the door. 
 
"It's in the car, I'll go get it..." 
 
"What do you want us to do?" Byers asked and Mulder's 
brow wrinkled. 
 
"Get as much background info as you can on the two 
victims, maybe there's some connection between the two 
of them that's not obvious at first glance..." 
 
 
11:31am 
 
Langly blew the remains of the pencil parings from 
the sheet before turning it around to face Mulder. 
 
Mulder stared into the stubble-encased, blue-eyed 
killer and nodded. 
 
"That's him," he stated, taking the sheet from 
Langly's hands and staring at it for a moment. It was 
definitely him, same cold stare, same sliver of a scar 
on his left cheek, same stone cut features that had 
faced him hours before. 
 
He stared at the picture for a moment, his mind 
turning as he stared into the eyes of the suspect in 
front of him. 
 
"Something wrong?" Langly asked and Mulder shook his 
head. 
 
"He just looked familiar, that's all..." 
 
He rose and slipped on his jacket. 
 
"Where are you going?" Langly asked, rising to join 
him. 
 
"To go back to the motel and see if this guy checked 
in with Scully..." he replied and Langly grabbed his 
coat. 
 
"Want me to come?" he asked and Mulder shook his 
head. 
 
"You stay here and help the guys with their 
checking..." 
 
"Don't do anything rash..." 
 
"Me?" he asked, giving him a watery smile. "I'm the 
most level-headed guy you could meet..." 
 
And he turned, picked up his car keys, and left. 
Langly stared after him, shaking his head and turning 
to walk into the bedroom where Frohike and Byers had 
set up camp. 
 
"Not where Scully's concerned..." 
 
 
 
11:37am 
 
 
Her mouth was dry. She ran her tongue over her upper 
lip as she swallowed and yawned. She felt tired. She 
felt more tired then she usually did on a, she paused, 
her mind trying to figure out what day it actually 
was. She couldn't remember. 
 
Her eyes opened sharply as an unfamiliar smell 
reached her nostrils and she froze, staring at the 
figure in front of her, immersed in the thin sheet of, 
what she now realised, was a motel bed. 
 
She took a deep breath to calm herself before she 
rose quietly and stared over her shoulder. Her heart 
went into over-drive as she stared into the sleeping 
face of Alex Krycek. 
 
Scully's hands immediately reached for the clothes 
that lay next to the bed and she looked at them only 
for a moment before slipping the top quietly over her 
head, trying to eradicate the sight of the blood that 
stained the garment. 
 
She swallowed as she rose, realising now that she had 
absolutely nothing on as she had lain in the bed next 
to _that_ man. She shivered involuntarily as she rose, 
clutching the thin t-shirt to her body as she made for 
the door. 
 
As soon as she left the room and closed the door 
behind her, she allowed her body to slide down against 
the door, so that her back was pressed against the 
hard grain. 
 
Her mind began to try and make some sense out of what 
was happening. She shook her head, no matter what she 
could think of, it wouldn't explain just how the hell 
she had landed in bed with Alex Krycek and didn't 
remember a thing previous to waking up. She just knew 
one thing. 
 
Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and tried to 
steady her nerves as she rose again, tears beginning 
to prick her eyes as she moved towards the phone. She 
just needed to get help, she needed to get away from 
here, no matter what the reason was for he being here, 
she knew that no matter what it was, it was wrong, she 
shouldn't be naked in a bed in a motel room with, she 
shivered again as she picked up the phone. 
 
She paused, turning to look at the closed door to the 
bedroom. Would she get caught before she got to talk 
to Mulder? Would it be better to leave first? But she 
didn't know where she was and, as she looked down at 
herself, she knew it wouldn't be best to walk out in 
her current state. And the door could be locked, 
trying to open it would only wake Krycek. 
 
With her hands trembling, she pressed Mulder's 
cellular number and listened to the rings, keeping her 
eyes glued to the closed door. 
 
"Come on Mulder..." she muttered. "Pick up..." 
 
Her heartbeat was increasing so much that she could 
almost feel the thudding in her ears, beating the ever 
continuing beat, only now it just reminded her that 
every beat that went by, was another one that she was 
alone here with no means of escape. 
 
"The user is currently out of reach..." the mundane 
tone of the recorded message reached her ears and it 
was as if her heart was crushing and falling to pieces 
with every syllable that the messages relayed to her. 
 
She took a breath, pausing to calm her nerves before 
hanging up and beginning to press the numbers to his 
home number. 
 
"Please be there..." she muttered, closing her eyes 
and just as she felt the hand on her shoulder, she 
remembered that she'd taken her eyes from the door and 
she spiralled round, Krycek removed the receiver and 
placed it to his ear. 
 
"Hello?" a voice called and Krycek shook his head. 
 
"Who were you calling Dana?" he asked as he turned 
his attention to the phone. "Who am I speaking to?" 
 
Scully could see that there was a silent pause and 
then Krycek nodded silently, hanging up the phone. 
Scully was frozen in place as she watched Krycek's 
movements, he placed the phone back on the hook and 
turned to her, his hand reaching up and pulling her 
roughly up against him. His lips pressed against hers 
and she was paralysed, not knowing what to do. 
 
She swallowed and as he pulled away and he stared at 
her before smiling. 
 
"If you wanted pizza, why not ask..." he paused. "I 
would've gone to get it, you know that we can't have 
deliveries here..." he chided and sighed, picking up 
his jacket and slipping it on. "I'll be back, you 
should go lie down..." 
 
"Where are you going?" she asked, fear invading her 
mind and body, as much as she detested him, he was the 
only thing she recognised in this god-awful place. 
 
He stopped in his tracks and stared intently at her 
for a moment. She just prayed he couldn't see the fear 
in her eyes that she was certain was plastered across 
them. 
 
"Are you alright?" he asked and she threw him a 
watered smile. 
 
"I'm... fine..." 
 
"You need to go lie down..." he said, walking to the 
drawer under the sink and picking up the bottle of 
silver liquid and filling the syringe to the right 
capacity. "You'll feel better when you wake up..." 
 
He turned to face her and she saw the syringe and 
looked to him with a mixture of dismay and utter fear. 
She knew now that he must be able to see something in 
her as he gripped her arm before she could even think 
about running. 
 
"See?" he asked, stepping away from her and smiling. 
"I told you that you'd feel better..." 
 
She shook her head to try and clear the muddle that 
had become her thoughts. How had he been able to hold 
her here, she should’ve been able to prevent him from 
injecting her – he had one arm for Christ’s sake! She 
swallowed, staring in Krycek's direction, trying to 
focus the blurred multiple images that represented 
him. 
 
"What..." she paused, feeling her legs going weak at 
the knees, "What did you give me?" 
 
He watched as she blinked quickly, gripping the chair 
with her hands to try and steady herself. He took a 
step forward and caught her before she fell to the 
ground, gripping her tightly with his hand as he 
pulled her toward the bedroom. 
 
"It's nothing honey, just something to make the buzz 
come back into your life..." he heaved her onto the 
bed and watched for a moment as she lay twisting and 
turning on the covers. "Don't worry Dana, you'll be 
back to your knight in good time..." 
 
And he closed the door behind him, locking it and 
placing the key in his pocket. Lucky for him, she'd 
just dialled the pizza place. All he needed was Mulder 
beating down the door. 
 
 
 
Fox Mulder residence. 
11:46am. 
 
 
Frohike sighed as he stared into the computer screen, 
watching as the reflection of Byers' intensified gaze 
stared back at him. He looked at his watch before 
turning to see Langly walk into Mulder's bedroom. 
 
"Where's Mulder?" he asked, straightening up from his 
hunched over position. 
 
"He's gone, left to talk to that woman at the 
motel..." 
 
"You let him go?" Byers asked without turning from 
the computer screen. 
 
"I asked if he wanted me to come with him, but he 
turned me down..." Langly replied, sitting down on the 
bed beside Byers. 
 
"Wouldn't be the first time that happened..." Frohike 
added under his breath but Langly spun around. 
 
"I heard that!" 
 
"Well, I said it loud..." Frohike retorted and Byers 
shook his head as the phone began to ring. Frohike 
reached over and picked it up. 
 
"Yeah..." he answered sharply, glaring at Langly. He 
paused for a moment and sighed. "Pizza parlour..." he 
replied and Langly watched as Frohike's brow furrowed. 
He always answered a call with that response when he 
didn’t know who it was at the other end. But something 
happened because a sudden realisation must have hit 
him as he stared straight ahead of him and his face 
turned paler then it's usual pasty colour. 
 
"Frohike?" Langly began, waving a hand in front of 
his friend's face. "Earth to ass-hole..." 
 
"It was her..." he stated as he replaced the phone 
onto the hook. 
 
"Scully?" Byers probed, turning from the computer in 
time to see Frohike shrug. 
 
"I answered and this guy said 'Who are you talking to 
Dana' and then he asked who I was, I didn't put two 
and two together until he hung up..." 
 
"Did you hear her?" 
 
"No, she didn't speak..." 
 
"Get a trace on that address..." Byers ordered and 
Langly took Byers' place at the computer. "Do you 
think we should tell Mulder?" 
 
"I'll ring his cellular..." Frohike said, rising and 
Byers turned to help Langly. 
 
 
En Route. 
11:51am. 
 
 
Mulder sighed, turning the heating on the car up full 
belt, the window open and his elbow lay hanging out of 
it. It wasn't cold, at least it wouldn't be if he had 
the window pulled up, but for some strange reason he 
didn't want to hire the window up, he guessed that it 
was out of habit more then anything else. Scully 
always chided him on it and it usually annoyed him. 
He’d give anything to have her here now. 
 
Swallowing, he took the next exit and watched as he 
passed another bungalow, the smell of the flowers in 
the garden filled his nostrils and he glanced in that 
direction. The sight of a family playing basketball in 
the driveway met him and he turned his gaze back to 
the road. 
 
The last thing he wanted to see at the moment was the 
sight of a happy family acting like the Brady bunch. 
He couldn't keep count of all the times when he had 
dreamed of his own private little Brady Bunch, except 
his bunch had a red headed wife instead of a blonde 
one. 
 
He shook the idea from his mind, trying to convince 
himself that he would see her again, but if he had 
convinced himself of this, then why did he have tears 
trickling down his cheeks? 
 
Fox Mulder Residence. 
September 15th 2000. 
12:13pm. 
 
“He’s not answering…” Frohike stated again and Byers 
sighed. 
 
“Keep trying, he’s got to pick up sometime….” 
 
Langly was typing on the computer and stopped, staring 
at the screen. 
 
“This is going to take awhile….” He muttered under 
his breath before resuming typing. “I mean, what if…” 
 
Frohike spun around. 
 
“What if what ass hole?” he demanded and Langly 
shrugged. 
 
“You said it earlier, what if the enigmatic Dana 
Scully did actually perform the slice and dice, only 
this time she chose not to do it on a dead body?” 
 
Frohike took a deep breath before turning his back on 
Langly. 
 
“How could she do it? I mean, she’d have to be 
drugged, drunk and have had a lobotomy to have done 
what Mulder said…” 
 
Byers stared at Langly typing. 
 
“Perhaps she did. Those men might have killed her, 
for all we know Scully could be dead and that could be 
a clone manufactured from her DNA or maybe…” 
 
“Look!” Frohike began; turning around, phone to his 
ear. “She did NOT do it!” 
 
“Frohike?” Langly started, stopping his typing again. 
“You have to admit that somewhere in that little brain 
of yours, there is a small part that suspects she’s 
guilty or even admits that it’s possible…” 
 
“What could make a rational woman do that?” 
 
“What rational person do you know that could do what 
she does? What she sees in a day is worse then what 
some people see in a lifetime! Maybe it’s been one 
autopsy too many and one monster too much?” 
 
Frohike looked to Byers. 
 
“Mulder handles what he sees because he believes in 
it, Scully’s doesn’t hold his convictions….” He began 
but Frohike interrupted him before he could get any 
further. 
 
“What about the two men she’s been with?” Frohike 
demanded. 
 
“What? Scully doesn’t know men that Mulder doesn’t 
know?” Langly asked and Frohike slammed the phone 
down. 
 
“Holding a gun to her head?” he asked and shook his 
head. “You’re worse then they are! After knowing her 
for 8 years you can’t even give her the benefit of the 
fricken doubt? Jesus, she’s been there for us as much 
as Mulder, maybe even more so! Who’s the one who rings 
to say thank you after we help them?” 
 
Langly turned around and began to type again. 
 
“I just said maybe, that’s all…” 
 
 
En Route 
12:44pm 
 
Mulder’s mind was not fully concentrating on the road 
ahead as visions of Scully kept entering his mind. He 
saw her in various capacities but finally; his mind 
began to see her in scrubs, holding a scalpel in her 
hand. The image kept replaying in his mind. They said 
that only a doctor or someone with medical experience 
could do what had happened in the motel room. 
 
He wiped his left hand over his face, it had been 
over 36 hours since he’d last slept and although he 
usually could go days without sleep, this was 
different. He was drained, emotionally and physically. 
Just realizing that he was here, sitting in his car, 
even thinking that Scully was capable of something so 
gruesome as this, made him sick. 
 
Byers had been right, if Mulder gave up on her, then 
she would have nobody, there wasn’t a single person 
involved in this case that didn’t have reservations 
that she could’ve done it, even Skinner had his 
doubts. The problem was that everything was pointing 
towards Scully, every single piece of evidence and 
every fingerprint they found, it all led back to her. 
 
But if she was guilty, then why did she want him to 
find her? Why leave the clues that she’d left? If she 
was responsible then why did she claim she didn’t know 
how it had happened? This was confusing, even for him. 
He parked the car in the Sleep ‘N Inn parking lot and 
sighed, staring at the cordoned off motel room. Why 
did he have the feeling that he was missing something? 
 
He locked his car and walked towards the office, 
reaching inside his pocket and pulling out the 
portrait of the man who’d attacked him. Maybe if 
Barbara recognised him, then it would at least suggest 
that Scully didn’t do it, that it would be proof that 
Mulder was not seeing things, or making excuses for 
Scully, that there had been two people at Kevin 
Larney’s home the night that Mulder had gotten shot. 
 
“Barbara?” he called as he entered the office, letting 
the door close behind him. The office was empty and he 
walked to the desk. “Hello?” 
 
“Hold on a minute!” a female voice called from the 
closed door behind the counter. Mulder sighed and 
leaned against the counter, staring at the drawing in 
his hand. 
 
“Oh…” the voice came again as the door opened. “It’s 
you…” 
 
“Sorry for intruding on you again…” Mulder began and 
she raised her hand, the bright red nail varnish that 
covered her nails caught Mulder’s eye. 
 
“As you can see Agent Mulder, there isn’t exactly a 
queue of people wanting a room, what can I do for 
you?” 
 
Mulder handed her the piece of paper. 
 
“Do you recognise him?” 
 
“You mean,” she began, staring at the photo. “Is this 
the man that came in with your partner?” 
 
She looked up and smiled at him. 
 
“Yes, I know she’s your partner…. I heard some of the 
other agents talking, not nice things I can tell you 
that much…”she shook her head and handed him back the 
portrait. “No, it isn’t the same man…” 
 
Mulder pocketed the piece of paper and sighed. 
 
“But…”she began and smiled. “I remembered something…” 
 
Mulder stared at her for a moment. 
 
“What?” he asked and she opened the door to the back 
room. He followed her in and saw that it was the 
makeshift headquarters for the motel. It had papers 
and folders strewn across the floor and he turned to 
see Barbara pick up a video. She handed it to Mulder. 
 
“It’s the video of the night she was here…from the 
camera.” she began, staring at Mulder who was looking 
at the video. “There’s a chance that she’s on it…” 
 
Mulder looked up at her. 
 
“But there’s a chance that she isn’t?” 
 
Barbara nodded and shrugged. 
 
“The darned thing broke that night, I only managed to 
get the tape out just before you came in…” 
 
Mulder sighed. 
 
“Why didn’t you tell me or one of the other agents 
this before? You could be charged with withholding 
evidence.” 
 
She smiled and leaned on her desk. 
 
“What do you want me to say Agent Mulder? I didn’t 
think of it until I came in the other morning to 
change the tapes. When I saw that it was broken, I 
didn’t think that it had gotten her…Anyway, the way 
that those agents were gossiping about her, I didn’t 
think that they were exactly the people that I should 
give it to…” 
 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
“Who’s on this tape?” he asked and she smiled. 
 
“As I said before, I don’t ask questions Agent 
Mulder, I just give the rooms…” 
 
Mulder sighed. 
 
“Have you got somewhere that I can look at this?” he 
asked and she nodded, pointing to a television in the 
corner. 
 
“You can use that to look at it, but it’s not leaving 
this office…” she closed her eyes and sighed. “All I 
wanted when I came out here was to run a motel, just a 
nice, simple, run of the mill motel. What do I get? A 
seedy little rent-a-room stopover for anyone who 
fancies a bit of rough and tumble…” 
 
Mulder put the tape in the video and began to watch 
it. 
 
“You could always sell it…” he commented and she 
laughed. 
 
“The tapes or the motel? Either is impossible after 
what happened in there.” she folded her arms. “Who 
would want to buy a place that’s just been slept in by 
a guy who lost ten of his fingers, amongst other 
things…” 
 
“Yeah…” Mulder replied, only half-listening. He 
stared at the screen, watching as the time index 
showed 9:45. “You said it was around 10 when she 
came?” 
 
“Yeah. I should’ve known when they came in that 
something wasn’t right, I mean the man that was with 
your partner, he was strange…” she paused. “I mean, he 
didn’t speak at all, except when they were leaving and 
he whispered something into her ear. Usually the 
people who come here are all over each other but those 
two were different…” 
 
“In what way?” Mulder asked, watching the video 
intently. 
 
“She didn’t seem to know what she was doing. No, 
maybe that isn’t right. Confused would be better. It 
was as if she was, well….” She paused as Mulder looked 
at her. “Drugged…” 
 
Mulder nodded before turning back to the screen. The 
video played for another 5 minutes before Mulder saw 
Scully walk into the office. Barbara was right, she 
did seem a little unsteady on her feet. Mulder watched 
as she approached the counter and then the door opened 
behind them and someone began to step through when the 
video stopped. 
 
“You see?” Barbara began, rising from the desk. “I 
knew it wouldn’t show much!” 
 
Mulder nodded absently, pressing the rewind button. He 
paused it just before the video stopped and stared at 
the opening door. There was no head, there was only an 
arm, but Mulder knew who it was. He closed his eyes 
and let his head rest in his hands. 
 
“What?” Barbara demanded from behind him. “Do you 
know who it is?” 
 
Mulder sighed. 
 
“Did you notice anything else about the man she was 
with?” 
 
“What do you mean?” she asked and Mulder lifted his 
head from his hands. 
 
“Was he disabled in any way?” 
 
Barbara shrugged. 
 
“No, not that I could see…” 
 
Mulder reached inside his pocket and withdrew his 
phone. He stared at its screen and saw that his 
battery was dead. He muttered under his breath and 
Barbara smiled. 
 
“You can use the one on the desk, if you can find it…” 
 
 
“Thanks…” he muttered before reaching for the phone 
that sat in the middle of the desk, surrounded on all 
sides by papers. The bell from the door sounded in the 
other room and Barbara rose. 
 
“I have to get that, I’ll be back in a second…” 
 
He nodded as a voice answered his phone. 
 
“Hello?” Frohike answered and Mulder sighed. 
 
“Frohike? It’s Mulder, I know who the man was at the 
motel…” he began and Frohike interrupted. 
 
“Mulder, she called. At least, I think it was her….” 
 
“When? What did she say?” 
 
“Over an hour ago. She said nothing, that’s the 
point. Some guy said ‘Dana who are you talking to’ and 
then hung up.” 
 
Mulder closed his eyes. 
 
“It’s Krycek. Krycek has Scully….” He stated and he 
could hear Frohike telling the others. 
 
“Are you sure Mulder?” he asked and Mulder was about 
to reply when a noise came from the office. It sounded 
like a shot. 
 
“Hold on a minute, I have to check on something…” 
 
He pulled out his gun and put his hand on the door, 
ready to open it. Before he had the chance, it was 
pulled open and Mulder went with it, hitting his head 
off the desk. Whoever it was that had opened the door 
kicked Mulder in the stomach and he gripped his 
abdomen, falling beside someone. Before he had a 
chance to look at the person, he felt a hand connect 
with his face and whoever it was pushed Mulder to one 
side, entering the back office. 
 
Mulder reached groggily for a shelf under the counter 
to try and pull himself up, looking for his gun, but 
he couldn’t manage to raise himself off the ground. 
Whoever hit him certainly had a good left fist on 
them. His head began to thud as a pair of high heels 
ran past him. He pushed himself off the ground, just 
in time to see Scully jump into the same black sedan 
that had been at Kevin Larney’s home. 
 
Mulder grabbed his gun from the floor, finally able to 
pull himself together and ran from the office, gun in 
the air. 
 
“Stop!” he yelled as the car began to drive away. 
Mulder started to run after it, trying to subdue the 
banging in his head before the car turned a corner, 
speeding away. “Scully!” 
 
He rushed back to the office and knelt down beside 
Barbara. He felt her neck for a pulse and lowered his 
head when he could find none. He stared at the face of 
the dead motel owner and sighed, closed her eyes, 
looking at the blood on his hands from the bullet hole 
in her forehead. 
 
“Oh Jesus Scully, what have you done?” 
 
He went back to the phone, hanging up on the gunmen 
without a word and dialled 911. It was only then that 
he noticed that the tape from the night of the 1st 
murder was gone. He’d lost the only proof he had that 
Scully hadn’t been alone that night. He lowered his 
head again and felt the thudding return. 
 
 
 
Sleep ‘N Inn 
1:54pm 
 
Mulder sat in the squad car, holding the ice pack to 
his jaw as he watched Skinner approach him. By the 
look on his superior’s face, he could tell that 
Skinner was pissed off and Mulder could probably guess 
why. He’d gone off alone, had been investigating alone 
and hadn’t been sharing his information with anyone. 
 
“What were you thinking?” Skinner demanded, staring 
down at Mulder’s bruised jaw without an ounce of 
sympathy. Mulder rose but Skinner pushed him back onto 
the back seat of the squad car and towered above him, 
hands on hips. “You know that there’s another dead 
body in there and not only is Scully now the only 
suspect but you are the only one alive at the moment 
who can say whether she was here or not and you claim 
that you don’t remember? Your credibility is 
disappearing Mulder and you’re walking a very thin 
line with the PD, the Navy and the FBI…” 
 
“You’re taking me off the case?” he asked and Skinner 
shook his head. 
 
“I know that you’re our best chance of finding her 
but I can’t stick my neck out for you anymore Mulder, 
not after today. You are going to follow procedure or 
I will have to take you off this case, do you 
understand?” he demanded and Mulder nodded and rose, 
this time without any protest from Skinner. “Detective 
Keane wants to speak to you, he’s inside…” 
 
Mulder nodded and walked towards the motel. Already he 
had disobeyed Skinner’s orders. He hadn’t told him 
about the supposed phone call that the gunmen had 
received from Scully a few hours ago, he hadn’t told 
him about the missing videotape and he’d forgotten to 
mention Krycek. Right now, Mulder didn’t care if he 
was suspended from duty or off the case, he would find 
Scully at any cost, even if that cost were the 
X-Files. 
 
“Agent Mulder…” Detective Keane greeted Mulder as he 
stepped into the office. The coroners were zipping up 
Barbara Roberts’ body into a body bag. He looked at 
her for a moment before turning his attention to the 
Detective. 
 
“AD Skinner said you wanted to talk to me.” 
 
The Detective nodded and Jackson Barnes, the naval 
officer, appeared from inside the second room. 
 
“Indeed we do Agent Mulder, got quite a few questions 
that we need answering…” he began and walked past 
Mulder, leading him to an empty motel room. Mulder sat 
on the bed and Barnes and Keane stood looking at him 
for a moment. 
 
“Just how well do you know your partner Agent 
Mulder?” Detective Keane began and Mulder swallowed. 
 
“We’ve worked together for 8 years….” 
 
Barnes nodded, leaning against the wall. 
 
“Yes Agent Mulder, but that doesn’t answer the 
question. Were you romantically involved?” 
 
Mulder shook his head. 
 
“No.” 
 
“I have to admit that I am a little surprised…”Keane 
commented, removing a cigarette from his jacket and 
lighting it. “I mean, 8 years is a long time to work 
together and I understand that a lot of your trips 
involved overnight stays?” 
 
“Look, we were partners, of course we were close but 
we were friends, nothing more. Every overnight trip as 
you call it was spent in separate rooms. We’ve been 
through a lot over the last 8 years but we were never 
anything but friends, okay?” 
 
“Okay, so you were friends then.” Barnes started. 
“Were you close? Before you go off the deep end, I’m 
only asking if you confided in each other?” 
 
“As I said, we’ve been through a lot together, mostly 
case related. Sometimes there is a need to confide in 
each other, we trust each other…” he paused, staring 
at the two men. “Is that all you’ve got to ask me?” 
 
“Not quite…” Barnes retorted. “The last call made 
from Ms Robert’s office was to your apartment…” 
 
“And?” Mulder asked, getting annoyed. 
 
“Why did you call your home?” 
 
“I was checking that my fish were fed.” 
 
“Or talking to Dana Scully…” Barnes stated and Mulder 
rose abruptly. 
 
“Just what the hell are you suggesting?” he demanded, 
only inches from Barnes’s face. “First you think that 
Scully shot Barbara Roberts and now what? You think 
that she was in two places at once? In my apartment 
and here too?” 
 
“I never said that…” 
 
Mulder sighed and stared at him. 
 
“Are you saying that you think I shot her?” 
 
Barnes shrugged but Detective Keane shook his head. 
 
“Nobody is saying that Agent Mulder…” 
 
Mulder stared at them. 
 
“What is this? Your version of good cop, bad cop?” he 
asked and shook his head. “You call this an 
investigation? It’s more like a manhunt! You both 
think that it’s Scully who is doing this so why bother 
looking at any other possibilities, right?” 
 
“Have you got another explanation Agent Mulder?” 
Keane asked and Mulder shook his head. “Whether you 
like to admit it or not Agent Mulder, your partner is 
the only suspect we have at the moment.” 
 
“You said that you trust each other, has she ever 
lied to you?” Barnes asked and Mulder shook his head. 
 
“No.” 
 
Barnes nodded. 
 
“Has she ever physically harmed you?” he asked and 
Mulder swallowed. Barnes looked at a file in his hand. 
“Because according to this, she shot you a couple of 
years ago. Care to explain that?” 
 
Mulder stared at him. 
 
“There was a good reason for what she did…”he 
replied. 
 
Barnes laughed. 
 
“Well, if I ever shoot one of my crewmates, I’ll be 
sure to say that there was a good reason…” 
 
“You’re investigating *this* case, not my partner.” 
 
“Okay Agent Mulder…” Detective Keane began. “What 
were you doing here?” 
 
“I had a suspect that I wanted Ms Roberts to look at. 
It was the man that attacked me, she said that she 
didn’t recognise him. I wanted to ring my home but my 
cell wasn’t working, so she let me use her phone. Then 
I heard a shot, went out to investigate and was 
knocked down…” 
 
“Have you got the picture of the man here?” he asked 
and Mulder handed him the picture. Keane looked at it 
before handing it to Barnes. “We’d like to keep this…” 
 
“Why? You’re not actually considering that Scully 
might not be guilty are you?” he asked and Barnes 
smiled. 
 
“You know Mulder, sarcasm suits you, at least it’s 
better then playing dumb!” 
 
Mulder smiled. 
 
“Is there anything else you’d like to ask me? it’s 
just that my fish will miss me…” 
 
Keane smirked. 
 
“I bet.” He paused. “You know, for an FBI Agent, you 
seem very personally involved in the case…” 
 
“She was my partner Detective Keane, I’m sure if 
Barnes went missing, you’d become involved in the 
investigation too, right?” Mulder walked to the door, 
opened it and walked out, slamming it behind him. 
 
 
“Wouldn’t like to get on his bad side…” Barnes 
commented and Keane shook his head, taking out a 
cigarette and lighting it. 
 
“Believe me, you’re already there….”
En Route to Fox Mulder Residence 
September 15th 2000 
2:35pm 
 
 
“Frohike?” Mulder began, holding the phone to his ear 
as he took the next right turn. “How are you guys 
coming along with the trace?” 
 
“Mulder? What the hell happened back there? There was 
a gunshot then the line went dead, and then some 
jack-ass detective calls and orders us to tell him 
what we’re doing here!” 
 
“What did you tell him?” Mulder demanded, a little 
too harshly. 
 
“Calm down! We didn’t tell him anything. I just told 
him that I was watering your plants… I don’t think he 
bought it though…” Frohike laughed. “He sounded pissed 
off…” 
 
“The motel owner is dead, that’s the gunshot you 
heard…” 
 
“Who did it?” 
 
Mulder ignored the question. 
 
“The trace Frohike?” 
 
“It’s coming, there isn’t that much to go on, Langly 
says it will take at least another 20 minutes…” he 
replied and Mulder heard talking in the background and 
then Byers came on the phone. 
 
“Mulder?” he paused. 
 
“What?” 
 
He cleared his throat. 
 
“We can’t let you go alone…” 
 
“What?” he demanded, patience running out. 
 
“Wherever this call came from, we’re coming with 
you…” 
 
Mulder rolled his eyes. 
 
“Just get me the address….” 
 
And he hung up. He didn’t wait for Frohike to respond; 
he wasn’t in the mood to argue with him without saying 
something that he’d later regret. He continued to 
drive with an image of Scully running into the back of 
that car, after kicking him in the stomach. 
 
 
 
Fox Mulder Apartment 
September 15th 2000 
3:43pm 
 
 
“Do you think we should wake him?” Byers asked and 
Langly shrugged. 
 
“Either way we lose…” he replied, swinging his chair 
around to look at the computer screen again. “I mean, 
if we wake him he’ll go running off after her and 
probably do something stupid and get them both killed. 
But if we don’t wake him then Scully is toast…” 
 
“And us…” Frohike replied, staring at a sleeping 
Mulder sprawled across his couch, shoes off and tossed 
to one side. “We have to wake him…” 
 
There was silence as the three men stared at Mulder. 
 
“Any volunteers?” Langly asked and Byers shrugged. 
 
“I suggest Frohike…” 
 
Frohike spun around and stared at Byers. 
 
“What? You’re kidding, right?” 
 
“I think Byers is right. Anyway, the majority rules…” 
Langly grinned. “Off you go…” 
 
 
Frohike sighed and approached Mulder. The agent was 
asleep but his eye lids were fluttering and his mouth 
moving, trying to form words that were inaudible from 
the distance that Byers and Langly stood but Frohike 
heard them clearly a he approached the sofa. 
 
“Scully….” Mulder muttered, his head turning slightly 
to the left, as if in pain. His expression changed and 
he was silent again, his hands folded on top of his 
stomach. Frohike touched his shoulder, shaking him 
gently. Mulder sighed in his sleep before settling 
again and Frohike pushed him a little harder. 
 
“Scully?!” Mulder exclaimed as he sat bolt upright, 
his eyes springing open at the intrusion into his 
dreams. When he saw Frohike he sighed and closed his 
eyes, running a hand over his face. “What?” 
 
“When was the last time you slept Mulder?” Frohike 
asked, sitting on the sofa beside Mulder. 
 
“I dunno, a couple of days maybe…” 
 
Frohike looked up at Byers who sighed. 
 
“We have the trace Mulder…” 
 
“Where is it?” he demanded, rising and retrieving his 
shoes. 
 
“It’s a motel, about 15 minutes drive from here…” 
Langly replied. “It took awhile to find though….” 
 
“Did you ring it?” Mulder asked and Byers shook his 
head. 
 
“We wanted to wait until we heard what you had to 
say…” 
 
Mulder nodded, sliding his jacket on over his crumpled 
shirt and placing his gun in the holster on his hip. 
 
“Good.” 
 
“She might not be there Mulder…” Frohike said, 
wishing that he wasn’t so close to Mulder when he 
decided to open his big mouth but Mulder simply 
shrugged. 
 
“It’s the only lead we have…” 
 
“We’re coming with you Mulder…”Byers said and Mulder 
shook his head. 
 
“No, you’re not…” 
 
Frohike rose and swallowed. 
 
“Have you told Skinner about this?” 
 
“Or that detective?” Langly added and knew from 
Mulder’s expression that he had done neither. 
 
“Well then…” Frohike said, trying to appear taller 
then he really was. “You’ll need back-up…” 
 
Mulder rolled his eyes. 
 
“Back-up?” he laughed. 
 
Langly stared at Mulder. 
 
“Do you want the address or not?” 
 
 
 
Motel. 
September 15th 2000 
2:23pm 
 
 
The light seemed to burn her eyes as she stared at 
the mould-covered lampshade that hung above the double 
bed where she lay. Her arm stung and as she gazed at 
the forming bruise on her shoulder she could only 
guess that it was from a needle mark, but she didn’t 
remember taking anything last night. 
 
She stared at the alarm clock that lay on the locker 
beside the bed and saw that it was well past midday. 
There was a constant buzzing inside her head that 
could only be cured by sleep or a strong drink. Since 
there was no obvious alcohol around, she opted for 
sleep but, as she closed her eyes, the constant 
buzzing returned, not allowing her the luxury of 
slumber. 
 
The bedroom door opened and she saw Krycek walk in, 
carrying a brown paper bag. 
 
“Hey…” he greeted, staring at her confused expression 
with a mixture of expectation and annoyance. “You 
okay?” 
 
“Not really, what did you give me last night? My head 
feels like an elephant decided to shit on it…” 
 
He grinned, happy to see that “his” Scully had 
returned. 
 
“You had a little tantrum honey, had to give you 
something to calm you down…” 
 
“Well give me something to take it away, I can’t 
stand the banging…” she replied, lying against the 
headboard of the bed and closing her eyes, running a 
hand through her hair. “I can’t think straight….” 
 
He dropped the bag onto the bed and sat beside her. 
She re-opened her eyes and stared up at him. 
 
“You didn’t answer my question Alex, what did you 
give me?” she demanded and he put a finger to her lip 
to silence her but she shook her head, rising from the 
bed angrily. “Fuck you Alex! I want to know what the 
hell it was that you gave me last night!” 
 
Krycek stared up at her. This was always to be 
expected, the first daily dose of the drug induced 
high levels of emotional tantrums like the one that he 
was witnessing now. She began to pace and he simply 
watched, waiting for the effect to wear off and to see 
his docile lover return. It was one of the kinks that 
they had failed to remove from the drug. It was too 
unpredictable. 
 
But then that was one of the things that he liked 
about this drug, it took away exactly what made Dana 
Scully the ice-maiden that everyone knew and gave him 
the headstrong, vibrant lover that he had come to 
enjoy. 
 
“I don’t want to do this anymore Alex…” she 
complained and he stared at the red-haired beauty, 
understanding just why it was so easy to entice men 
with this woman, she was the most beautiful thing he’d 
seen in his life. “I can’t, won’t, run around with you 
anymore not knowing what I’m doing!” 
 
“Dana…” he began and as she looked at him, he could 
see that she was relenting. “You know that you have to 
take your medication or you’ll get sick, don’t you?” 
 
She nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. He took 
her hand. 
 
“You know we have a job to do, don’t you?” he asked 
and she nodded again. Her head lay on his lap and he 
closed his eyes, stroking her hair with his hand. 
 
It wasn’t long before her breathing became even and 
she fell to sleep. He rose from the bed, careful not 
to wake her and stared at her, as she lay asleep on 
the mattress. He reached down and wiped a stray strand 
of hair from her eyes. She muttered before turning 
over on her side and he draped the duvet over her. 
 
“What was that all about?” a voice asked from behind 
Krycek and he turned, staring at his newfound partner. 
 
“Nothing…” he replied, angry that he hadn’t seen the 
other man enter. “What do you want?” 
 
“I can come back later if you want…” he replied, his 
face stern. “You know, give you two love-birds a 
chance to have some time together…” 
 
“Shut up!” Krycek demanded and the other man smiled, 
placing a briefcase on the table. “Just tell me what 
you want Max.” 
 
“Well, I’ve got the details of the final hit here…” 
he stated, opening the case and handing Krycek a 
manila folder. He opened it and stared at the first 
page, shaking his head. 
 
“You’re kidding…” 
 
Max rose and closed the briefcase. 
 
“You’ve known me long enough to know that I never kid 
about business…” 
 
Krycek shook his head and handed Max the folder. 
 
“Well, it can’t be done…” he answered. He stared at 
the closed bedroom door where Scully lay asleep. “I 
mean, you’re talking about a suicide mission…” 
 
Max placed the briefcase on the table again and 
sighed. 
 
“And your problem is?” he asked and Krycek swallowed. 
 
“You never mentioned anything about the shooter 
dying…” 
 
“Look…” Max began, scratching his jaw. “I told you to 
get someone expendable, someone you could expose to 
the drug for a period of time without raising 
unnecessary suspicion, at least not enough to 
compromise the job. You told me this was the person, 
now you want to back out?” 
 
Krycek stared at him. 
 
“I never said anything about backing out.” 
 
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked and Krycek 
shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re getting attached to 
her? I gave you more credit then that Alex…” 
 
“Cut the shit Max. I just don’t see why she has to 
die…” 
 
Max stared at the manila folder on the table. 
 
“The job is to shoot the target in a crowded room, in 
front of at least 50 people and she has to get caught 
or she has to die…” he paused. “Whatever way you look 
at it Alex, she’s not getting out of this. She’s too 
high profile to escape without getting recognised…” 
 
“High profile?” Krycek asked in surprise and Max 
nodded. 
 
“I’ve been doing some background work Alex and I’ve 
discovered a couple of things that you failed to 
mention, like the fact that she’s an FBI agent?” 
 
“I didn’t think that would matter, it helps our 
situation…” 
 
“Why do you say that? She was noticed missing almost 
immediately. They have a special team searching for 
her…” 
 
Krycek nodded. 
 
“Exactly, all the evidence points to her. The police 
don’t even suspect anyone else!” 
 
Max nodded. 
 
“I only hope you’re right because I’ve found out some 
more interesting little facts…” 
 
“What facts?” 
 
“Her partner is the reason you got your arm chopped 
off and there’s something of a history between the 
three of you?” Max stepped closer to Krycek and Krycek 
sighed. “Now, the police may think that our friend in 
there is the only suspect but my sources say that her 
partner thinks otherwise and he actually knows that 
you’re involved, what do you think of that?” 
 
“Bullshit, Mulder has no proof, all the evidence 
points to Scully…” Krycek replied. “I have no 
attachment to Scully, she’s just part of the job. If I 
had feelings for her, would I make her do this?” 
 
“Well, you might have thought you could frame someone 
else for it…” Max stated, retrieving his gun from his 
pocket. “I mean, you might have tried to put another 
person in the frame for your girlfriend’s work?” 
 
Krycek knew where his gun was; it was in the brown 
paper bag that he’d left in the bedroom. He stared at 
the barrel of Max’s gun and shook his head, smiling. 
 
“You can’t do this without me…” he stammered and Max 
laughed. 
 
“You see, that’s where you’re wrong Alex. I have the 
drugs and I have the shooter. I don’t really need you 
anymore…” he retorted, stepping even closer to Krycek, 
who was backing towards the wall. 
 
“He won’t be pleased about this Max…” 
 
Max laughed again. 
 
“Do you think I’d do this without his permission 
Alex?” he asked, releasing the safety. “Really Alex, 
he was only using you, just as you’re using that tramp 
in there. Don’t think that we don’t know what you’ve 
been up to with her, acting happy families wasn’t part 
of the deal…” 
 
“Neither was me dying.” 
 
Max shrugged. 
 
“Well, you never know what fate has in store for you, 
do you?” he asked and Krycek stared at the gun before 
the shot echoed in the small kitchenette.
 
 
To be continued… 

~@~@~@~@~

Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder and
Dana Scully do not belong to me but to 1013 Productions and
Fox and Chris Carter. I claim no ownership to them and if I
did own them then it would've been iced tea and not root
beer in that bag...

=====