TITLE: KRYPTON KILLER AUTHOR: DONNILEE E-MAIL: Donnilee@snet.net WEBSITE: http://donnilee.tripod.com RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: MSR DISCLAIMER: All characters from the show, The X-Files belong to their creator, Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully's wedding plans are postponed when they are called in on a baffling serial killer case. THANKS: To FatCat for her speedy and accurate beta. XXXXXXXXXX PART 1 (PG-13) DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT SATURDAY MORNING I listened to Mulder's prolonged snore solo and smiled. He rarely slept this good and I liked to think that I had something to do with it. Regardless of the wee bit of tension that erupted at the dinner table following the announcement of our engagement, things had gone better than we expected. Bill had blown a gasket at first but had come around and was willing to walk me down the aisle. Mulder, however, had a constitutional right to be paranoid about Bill's reactions in the future. Despite Bill's protests, I had chosen Charlie to give me away, but decided, after Bill groveled for a while, that they both would give me away. This way both brothers would be included in the ceremony and no one would feel left out. We'd finalized our plans over dinner and champagne, which had left me with a well-deserved headache, a moldy feeling tongue and sand paper in my eyes. I rubbed my eyes with my fingers and pried them open. I moaned as the sunlight pierced my eyeballs and immediately shut them again. Mulder stirred behind me and snuggled closer. I decided it wouldn't hurt to sleep in today. It was Saturday, after all, and for once, we didn't have anywhere we needed to be. I should have known it couldn't last. XXXXXXXXXX J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE SATURDAY AFTERNOON Skinner had once described Agent Pamela Weston as a nuclear weapon on legs. I'd laughed at the time. Now as the SAC of the VCS task force to capture the latest serial killer stalking Washington stood there, I thought his description was apt. She stood glaring at Mulder after his comment of, "Come here and let me see if I can help you knock that chip off your shoulder." I held my breath waiting for the explosion. Pamela Weston was a large woman with jet-black hair held back in a severe ponytail. She was about five feet, ten inches tall in her stocking feet, and today she was wearing two-inch heels that put her eye to eye with Mulder. The rumors around the water cooler said that she was a lesbian. I wasn't so sure about that. Any strong woman that didn't fuck her way to the top was often labeled by the bullpen as a lesbian. After all, how could we poor women possibly resist the chauvinistic charm of our male brethren? The same charge had been leveled against me from time to time. Even if it were true, I wouldn't have cared. I despised gossip, maybe because Mulder and I were the subject of so much of it around here. Pamela surprised me when she turned to Skinner and said, "I told you this wouldn't work. I'll never be able to work with him." Mulder replied, "You'll never be able to work with anyone, Agent Weston, because everyone threatens you." "With all due respect, Sir," she said calmly to Skinner. She then turned to Mulder. "Fuck you, Agent Mulder." "Hey!" Skinner and I both shouted at the same time. Mulder threw his hands up in the air. Skinner turned to Pamela. "You need help on this one, Agent Weston." "Says who?" Pamela asked. "Says ME," Skinner barked. She deflated. "If he's just going to insult what I've been done on this case so far then that's not going to be a lot of help. Just because I haven't found this asshole yet, doesn't mean that I'm not going to." I sighed. "Agent Weston, I don't believe Agent Mulder was insulting what you've done on the case. He's merely pointing out that there are several things that could have been done in addition to what your team has already put together. He wasn't insulting you or your team's particular skills on the case. That's where we come in. We can fill in some of the blanks. You obviously need the man power." "She always speak for you and cover your ass?" she asked Mulder. He smiled. "Only when my lack of restraint of pen and tongue gets me in trouble." She smirked at that, but it disappeared quickly. "I don't have a choice, do I?" she asked Skinner. He shook his head. "Not really. If I have to order you to take Mulder onto this case, I will. I'd rather you did it willingly though." "Even if I don't want to be on this case?" Mulder inquired. Skinner shot him a dirty look. "Don't you start with me, too," he barked. Pamela said, "I don't want him taking over my case." Skinner sighed, "He's not going to take over your case. He's support staff, just like everyone else on your team." I spoke up again. "Perhaps it will work best if I am the liaison, Agent Weston. You could hand down the assignments through me and I'll pass them on to Mulder. We can work independently, stay in the basement and hand in our analysis or work product when we're finished. You'll barely have to see us at all." "Works for me," she said. Skinner scowled. "Why do I feel like I'm babysitting a bunch of kindergarteners?" I merely raised an eyebrow. "Dismissed, agents." He turned to Mulder. "Keep your mouth shut and do your job." Then he turned to Pamela. "Make it work, Pamela. That's an order." XXXXXXXXXX BASEMENT OFFICE A WHILE LATER "Why is she such a bitch?" Mulder asked. I looked up at Mulder and said, "Look Mulder, cut her some slack. She's under pressure to catch this guy. The mayor of D.C. is putting pressure on the Bureau. You know how that is. When politicos get involved in law enforcement they make our lives ten times worse. They interfere with our ability to do our job. She's probably getting pressure from higher up. Now, Skinner orders her to bring in another profiler to check her work. She's got to feel threatened." "She's a bitch," he declared plainly again. "Maybe, but we have our assignment and we have to work with her, so let's make the best of it, okay? Besides, you're used to working with a bitch. Just treat her like you do me on the job and we'll be fine." His mouth hung open in shock until he caught the smirk on my face and realized I was joking. He burst out laughing and held his stomach. "Geez, Scully. Don't DO that to me." I chuckled and said, "Here's the initial police reports on the three victims." I handed him the folders. "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to go over the autopsy reports and see if anything got missed." He smiled. "Time to go to work, huh?" "Nose to the grindstone, partner." I smiled back. He sighed. "The things I do for you," he said dramatically. "If you're a good boy, the payoff will be worth it," I teased. He grinned. "For dragging me out of my fiancé's bed on a Saturday, it'll have to be quite a payback to make it worth it," he challenged. "Oh, it will be," I said calmly, not looking up and continuing to stare at the report in front of me. I heard his chuckle and his whispered, "That's my Scully." I smiled and went to work. So much for a peaceful weekend. XXXXXXXXX PART 2 (PG-13) J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING BASEMENT OFFICE MONDAY AFTERNOON I stepped up to the open door and peered inside. I hadn't spoken to either of them since I'd handed Agent Scully copies of the case on Saturday. Fortunately, she had come up to the fifth floor to retrieve them, leaving her partner behind. What was it about him that raised my hackles so much? I had been around long enough to realize that he had a reputation for a reason. Despite his Spooky moniker often being associated with the X-Files by the new agents, I knew it came along before the X-Files. He'd earned that moniker while working for Reggie Perdue in Behavioral Science, a sub-department of VCS. Violent Crimes Section was assigned the worst of the worst. It was within our jurisdiction to call on the Behavioral Science Unit, often kiddingly referred to as the BS Unit. BS, as in Bull Shit. The FBI could boast developing some of the premiere profilers of our time. It wasn't often talked about, but they knew that against Fox Mulder's powers of deductive reasoning, they would all come up short. Therefore, it was no wonder that no one was upset that he had chosen the X-Files over BS years ago. It also wasn't any wonder that most of them were less than happy to find out he'd been assigned to help out with the case. Help out, hell. He'd been assigned to go over their work with a fine-toothed comb and point out all the mistakes. Nobody was going to convince me of anything different. Still, I had to concede that he hadn't asked to be involved. He and his partner, the enigmatic Dr. Scully, had been coerced into this situation as much as I had. Damn Skinner, anyway. What was he thinking? Didn't he know the best way to foster hostility was to have one set of agents bird-dogging other agents? Well, there was nothing for it. I had to work with them. After talking to my girlfriend, Cici, a D.C. cop over the weekend, I realized that I was not putting my best foot forward. Cici had reminded me that my agents would take their cue from me. If I accepted Agents Mulder and Scully as an asset to the team, they would go along. If I openly displayed hostility, they would go along with that too. Cici also reminded me of my priorities. Catching this UNSUB was more important than turf battles and personality conflicts. Her repeatedly saying, 'Principles before personalities,' had made me want to smack her, because she was right. I took a deep breath and stepped through the door. Mulder was typing furiously on his computer his eyes on the paper in front of him on the desk. His fingers flew over the keyboard and I realized with some surprise that he was touch typist. I wouldn't have expected that, for all his other talents. It was my experience that most men never bothered to foster their more clerical skills, leaving it to secretaries and underlings. I looked around realizing that they didn't have a secretary, and wondered if necessity had been the mother of invention. He was so involved that he hadn't seen or heard me enter. I glanced to the right and saw Dana Scully reclining slightly in her chair, a manila folder held in front of her, tapping a pencil eraser on her full lower lip. I cleared my throat to get their attention. Mulder stopped in mid- keystroke and looked up, his pouty lower lip hanging onto a pencil that threatened to fall from his mouth. Agent Scully put her file down and straightened in her chair. "Agent Weston?" Scully greeted me. "Hi. I, um, came by to see what's going on. Just get a progress report." Mulder finally relaxed his pose and leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the desk. "Why don't you go first, Scully," he said. I wasn't sure if that was because he wanted her to buffer this confrontation or not. 'It was not a confrontation,' I reminded myself. 'Principles before personalities,' I reminded myself, with gritted teeth. I turned towards Agent Scully. She cleared her throat. "The autopsies were very thorough," she began. "Dr. Boganoff did a good job for the most part." "I sense a 'but' in there," I replied. "Sit down, Agent Weston. Excuse me. Would you like some coffee?" "No, thanks," I said, taking the only visitor's chair in front of Mulder's desk. I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head and refused to give him the satisfaction of showing my unease. I stared at Agent Scully. "Please continue." "Although he did request a toxicology screening, there are a few things he didn't test for that I would have." "Such as?" I coaxed. "Well, he tested for standard street drugs and prescription drugs and a few well-known anesthetics. However, he didn't test for any poisons or spurious gasses." "Gases?" "There are gasses that, if injected into the blood stream, can be fatal." "Is there any way to test for them now?" I asked. Scully shrugged. "It depends on whether the lab still has samples of the blood of each victim, or if they used it all up on the tests they did already." "I'll check on that immediately. Can you give me a list of tests you would like to have done?" I asked politely. "Certainly." "Good catch," I said. She looked at me suspiciously but I nodded in real gratitude. I wasn't saying it to placate her. It was a good catch. I didn't have the medical background needed to make this kind of catch. Although a couple of agents on the task force did, none of them had thought of testing for poisons or gasses, either. Scully waved at Mulder. "You're turn." I swiveled in my seat and leveled him with my gaze. He was unruffled and returned my steady look. "Psychopathology stew," he said slowly. "Meaning?" "Our UNSUB is one nasty character." "I could have told you that," I said. Then I realized how it sounded and held up my hand when I saw him stiffen. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded." He raised his eyebrows and waited. "Look, I want to apologize for my reaction in A.D. Skinner's office. I was out of line, but he blind-sided me by bringing you two in. I had no warning." "Neither did we," Mulder said. "I know, and for that I apologize. Can we start over, please?" He took a deep breath and glanced at Agent Scully. I followed his gaze and found her one eyebrow raised. It somehow seemed they were having a silent conversation and she was challenging him. He turned to me finally and said, "Yes, let's do that." I let out the breath I was holding. "Thank you," I said simply. He nodded. "Okay then. At first I was confused because the MO changed so drastically from crime scene to crime scene. Although serial killers generally do improve on their MO, it's a gradual thing, where they correct mistakes from the past crime and we see it evolve." "Okay," I said. "In this case, there are giant leaps in MO. He doesn't change one or two small things, like wearing gloves so he won't leave prints, or laying down plastic so he won't splatter blood around the scene. He changes a bunch of things all at once, or so it seems." "So it seems?" "How far apart are these murders?" he asked. I almost said, 'If you'd read the reports you would know.' I stopped myself and realized he wasn't being obtuse or testing me. He was engaging in a dialogue. This was how he led people to where they needed to go. I decided to play along. "We have the first victim in January, the second victim in July and now this third victim in early October." "Right. Seven months between one and two, and three months between two and three." "So? Don't they generally escalate over time and become more frequent killers?" I asked. He nodded. "Yes," he stated simply. I couldn't figure out what he was trying to tell me. After a moment it dawned on me. "You don't think he jumped from a seven month interval to a three month interval," I guessed. He nodded, smiling. "Bingo! Tell the lady what she's won!" he joked. Scully chuckled. "I'm afraid it's not a good prize." I turned to her and then looked back at Mulder. "More victims," I said solemnly. "I'll have a more thorough profile finished for you tomorrow. However, preliminarily, I'd bet my shorts we've missed victims somewhere." "Shit," I said quietly. Scully volunteered, "I would start checking the surrounding districts for unsolved murders in the last year. I'd also get a list of missing persons from all districts surrounding D.C." "That means we have to deal with Virginia and Maryland State Police." "That's why we're the F-B-I, multi-jurisdictional swamis," Mulder said sarcastically. I couldn't help but crack a smile. He really did have a decent sense of humor. I had to stop judging a book by its cover. Lord knows it had been done to me enough times in the past. I should know better. I felt a stab of guilt, wondering if I'd become the just the sort of judgmental person I'd come to hate and despise. Wouldn't that be a stinker? I stood up slowly and said, "Well, thank you. You've given me lots of work to do." Scully stood and handed me a hastily scrawled list of tests. Mulder stood and held out his hand. "Truce?" I smiled and shook his hand. "Truce." Then I lowered my head and left the office, closing the door quietly behind me. The grunts were not going to like this. Lots of phone calls to make now. XXXXXXXXX PART 3 (PG-13) J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING BASEMENT OFFICE TUESDAY AFTERNOON "Krypton," Scully said. "I just got the results. Agent Weston put a rush on them." I smirked at her and couldn't resist. "Scully, please don't tell me our UNSUB is Superman," I deadpanned. She laughed and said, "No, Mulder. Krypton, not Kyrptonite." "Whew," I said, wiping my brow with mock exaggeration. "It's from the Greek word, kryptos, which means 'hidden,'" she informed me. "Where does one find Krypton?" I inquired. "Well, there's the rub. It's not where you find it, it's how you extract it." "Educate me," I requested. She smiled. "Although traces of it are present in meteorites and minerals, krypton is more plentiful right here in the Earth's atmosphere. The atmosphere contained about one part in about 900,000." "That makes it rare?" "Well, I don't know if it rare, per se, but its not plentiful compared to other things found in the atmosphere. What bothers me is that it is also formed by nuclear fission of uranium triggered by slow neutrons. I read up on it and it seems there has been some experimentation in this area. This could become important later on because of fission power plants becoming popular." "Should we be looking for someone that works in a nuclear power plant?" "I don't know. Not yet. Even if they did, it wouldn't be the easiest thing to get a hold of or contain. Krypton is also used in the medical field." "How so?" "Well, a radioactive isotope of krypton, Kr85, is used in heart shunt studies. The lighting industry uses it, too. It's used as a triggering agent in discharge type electronic tubes. They also use it in some fluorescent lamps and a flash lamp used for high speed photography." "What else? There's more, isn't there?" I asked. "Radioactive krypton-85 is used for detecting leaks in sealed containers. Escaping atoms are detected by means of their radiation." "So it's everywhere, and any lab tech in the electronic industry could get a hold of it, probably any lab tech in a fission power plant could get it." "It gets better. It's colorless, odorless, and tasteless," she said. "Yippee," I intoned sarcastically. "All the victims had this in their bloodstream?" "Yes." "Couldn't they just have breathed it in, if it's in the atmosphere?" "No, not in this quantity." "So this is definitely the cause of death?" I asked. "Maybe, or maybe just enough to knock them out. There were so many bleeding wounds, it's hard to say what was the actual cause of death." "Either way, it means they were dead or unconscious when he inflicted the wounds," I said, thinking out loud. "Most likely. I guess that's a blessing," she agreed. "It also says something about our UNSUB," I mused. "What's that?" "He didn't get his rocks off on their pain." She cringed at my description. "Sorry, that was crude." "True though." I nodded. "Do we go to Pam with this?" "Not yet. I want to type up this report and then hit her with it and your completed profile. We can see if she's turned up any more unsolved deaths and have them checked for krypton if they aren't already in the ground." "We could always have them exhumed," I suggested. "Only as a last resort. I have a feeling that there are bodies out there that haven't been found by anyone. I'm going to ask her to put out a general bulletin to all the police agencies in the area. This way, any bodies that are still in the morgue or that turn up in the future will get this test. It connects them to our killer." I blew air out through my pursed lips. "I hate this shit," I stated the obvious. She gave me a close-lipped smile. "Me too. Let's catch this creep so we can go back to normal," she said. I smiled. "You mean chasing UFO's, lights in the sky, and little gray men, normal?" She smiled wider. "Yeah, that normal." God, I love this woman. XXXXXXXXXX PART 4 (NC-17) DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT GEORGETOWN, D.C. WEDNESDAY EVENING Tuesday evening and today had been a flurry of activity. Our information on Krypton and Mulder's profile had opened up several new avenues of investigation. True to her word, Agent Weston had sent her agents scrambling to cover all the bases. She didn't doubt our analysis or question us too closely. She took us at face value and for that I was grateful. This morning's paper proved we had a leak in the task force or the lab. The headline had read, 'FBI thinks Krypton Killer Has Struck Before'. Crap. Every TV station was carrying this new bit of information and some were calling him Superman. SAC Weston had gone through the roof, dressing down the entire task force. She threatened everything from dismissal to bodily harm if she found out who had leaked the information. She was pissed and rightly so. This kind of media circus generally only made our job harder. Pamela was pleased with our work. Now, that she had set a number of new investigations in process, she told us to take tomorrow off and return back on Friday. She would brief us on any progress at that time. Mulder commented on the way out, "If I'm not careful, I may end up liking that woman. Then where will I be?" I'd chucked him on the shoulder and told him I was driving. We asked her to call us if any more bodies turned up. I wanted to do the autopsies. She agreed and we left for the day. We ate left- over lasagna for supper and prepared for an early evening. I crawled nude into the bed. We had barely slept since Saturday and we hadn't made love since Friday night. Mulder growled, "Rrrrraaaarrrrrhhh," as I got under the covers. XXXXXXXXXX NC -17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX I laughed as he grabbed me and rolled me underneath him. He didn't waste any time and began kissing me until I couldn't breathe. His hands feathered up my sides, his thumbs brushing my breasts. My nipples rose to aching points of hard desire and he moved down to suckle them. In no time I was quivering and begging him to continue. He maneuvered himself between my legs and lined up. "Oh yeah," he growled as he shoved his shaft deep inside me in one long stroke. He began burying it in my wet folds, pumping furiously. "Been too long," he croaked out by way of excuse. I reached down and swiped over my clitoris. I felt my insides tighten and he lost control, spraying my insides with five days worth of stored up jism. His orgasm tipped me over into mine and I cried out, "Awwwwwwwww, yes!" XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX We collapsed and he panted into my neck. "Sorry, that was too quick." "S'allright," I slurred. "I was worked up too." "Five days is too long," he whispered, kissing my neck. I shivered and said, "I know. Let's get some sleep. We have tomorrow off." "I'll make it up to you tomorrow," he promised, rolling off of me and rearranging us so he could spoon up behind me. "Nothing to make up for," I mumbled, as I felt sleep tug at my brain. "Make up for it anyway, cause it's fun," he muttered. I chuckled. "Sleep, Casanova," I teased. He decided to let me have the last word and we both drifted off, leaving consciousness behind. XXXXXXXXXX I couldn't believe how late we slept. It was 9:00 AM and we'd been out cold for about twelve hours. Guess it all finally caught up with us. I slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to deflate my morning hard on and returned to the bed. It was chilly out here and I had no desire to get up until I made amends for my less than stellar performance the night before. Despite her objections, I knew it had been too quick. One thing I'd promised myself when we got involved about six months ago was that I would never leave her unsatisfied. Despite her scolding to the contrary, I knew that I couldn't contribute a whole lot to this relationship. This was the one thing that I seemed to be good at, making Dana Scully purr in bed. I meant to use it to its full advantage. I looked at her, thinking about what I wanted to do and felt my dick harden. My groin felt heavy as my balls swelled with eagerness. I crawled under the covers and snuggled up to her petite nude frame. XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX The cleft of her buttocks cradled my erect penis and I rubbed gently back and forth, smearing precum on her backside. She moaned gently but didn't wake. I reached down and palmed the back of her knee, sliding one leg forward slightly, positioning myself between her silken thighs. I took hold of my now throbbing penis and squeezed it at the base, feeling the head swell from the pressure. I stroked it up and down along her butt crack and then down to the fleshy lips below. I rubbed, being sure to hit her clitoris, until I felt warmth and moisture cover the head of my cock. I positioned myself at her entrance and then leaned forward, feeling her ass press against my stomach. She flexed her hips, moaning slightly and I couldn't wait any longer. I tightened my ass muscles and pushed myself inside her. The skin on my cock was stretched so tight that it almost hurt. I kissed her neck and shoulder blades and pressed harder, beginning to slide further inside. I knew the moment she came awake and gasped, "What? Ohhh, Mulder!" Her pussy gripped my cock like a velvet vice. I pulled out till just the head remained in her hot little twat and then I shoved forward again, burying myself to the balls, and feeling them press against the back of her thighs. She moaned, "Uuuuhhhh, yeah." Well, that was always a good sign. I slid one hand up to grip her breast firmly and began pinching her nipple gently with my thumb and forefinger. She sucked in a surprised breath and pressed her breast into my hand. I began to thrust, loving the feeling of my cock opening her up and expanding her flexible walls. Her own juices eased my way and I began to hear a sucking sound as I retreated as though she didn't want to release me. I sped up my thrusts and she cried out as she hit her climax. Her vaginal walls spasmed on my cock and I began to slam into her with frantic need. "Oh fuck!" I cried out. I bit my lip and tightened my stomach muscles, preventing myself from coming. I adjusted my angle, forcing my pubic arch into her ass cheeks and slamming into her, feeling the base of my cock stretch her wide. In minutes, the pleasure of hard and fast sex overwhelmed me. I was on the verge of coming. I left her breast and reached down to press her clitoris against our joining. I leaned back even further and slammed into her. She let out stifled scream and I felt her walls collapse on my invading shaft. "Oh God, feels so good, Scully!" I cried out, emptying my balls into her in several long satisfying ejaculations. XXXXXXXXXX END OF NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX We waited for our breathing to return to normal. Then she mumbled, "Great way to wake up. Now what are you going to feed me?" I chuckled and disengaged from her, hearing her hiss in protest. We got up and showered and headed for the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. XXXXXXXXXX We finished breakfast and did the dishes. I observed the pensive look on his face. "You can't stop thinking about it, can you?" He gave me a sheepish look. "You need to relax, you need the day off." I sighed. "WE need to relax and WE need the day off, Mulder. Not just me." "Right, that's what I meant," he corrected quickly. I grinned at him and said, "What do I need to do to take your mind off it?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "We already did that!" I exclaimed. He chuckled. "I know." After a pause, he said, "How about we go for a jog. I haven't been able to run for the last week either. We hardly ever run together. It would be fun." "You'll outrun me in about two seconds," I predicted. "I'll pace with you," he promised. "Okay, let's go for a run." I was surprised how much fun it was. We crossed the street and entered the park across from my apartment building. There was an asphalt track around the outside of the park for runners and cyclists. I used it often when I ran on my own. Mulder kept his promise and let me set the pace, my shorter legs working up to a rapid pace for me. He easily kept up but never complained, smiling at me occasionally. We took a break and stretched, making out for a while on a park bench before resuming our run. When we were really thirsty, we returned to the apartment and downed a bottle of water each, and took another shower and. "Now what?" he asked. "You're hard to entertain, Mulder," I teased. "No I'm not. Wanna get a movie?" he suggested. "Not really," I sighed. "What then?" "I don't know. Wanna play Scrabble?" He chuckled. "I will if you want." I could tell he really didn't want to. "Are you hungry? It is almost noon." "I could eat." "Let's go to the diner down the street." "It's a deal." We never made it to the door. The phone rang. I picked it up, recognizing the Bureau extension on the caller ID. "Scully." "Agent Scully, it's Pam Weston. We've got another one." "Where?" "House at the intersection of K Street NW and 23rd Street NW." "Near Georgetown University," I stated. "You got it. House is Number 3509." "We're on our way." I hung up and turned to Mulder. He was staring at me intently. "Where?" "Right here in Georgetown." "Should I put on a suit?" "Crime scene." He took off for the bedroom and I followed. Ten minutes later we were out the door, fully dressed as buttoned down government employees. XXXXXXXXXX PART 5 (R) 3509 K STREET NW GEORGETOWN, D.C. HALF HOUR LATER We waded through the horde of reporters on the front steps. As we approached the door, the guard checked our badges and waved us in. We entered and a uniform pointed us to the staircase. We climbed the stairs and heard a commotion down the hall. We walked towards it and found a group of techs outside the door. I heard Pamela's voice above the grumbling. "They'll be here in a minute. Nobody touches anything until they see it." "SAC Weston, I respect that, but we need," the man said, cutting off as we shouldered our way past him into the room. "Here they are," Pamela said with a ring of pleasure in her voice. The man, a balding man in his fifties, deflated and stepped back, waving at the bed. "It's all yours." "And you are?" I asked. "Dr. Jenkins, Medical Examiner's office." "Agents Mulder and Scully," I introduced, as I shook his hand. "So I've heard," he said flatly. Mulder asked, "Is there a problem?" He shrugged and turned away. "Territorial," Pam offered the one word explanation. "Call me when my team can move the body," he said haughtily and exited the room. "What IS his problem?" Mulder asked. Pamela raised an eyebrow. "Ego cancer," was her reply. We smiled and stepped over to the bed. He probably hated that the FBI was going to snatch this autopsy from him. Getting involved in a case like this, especially if he found a critical piece of forensic evidence would be a feather in his cap. I made a mental note to ask him to join me for the autopsy. It always paid to play nice with the locals. We approached the bed carefully and observed the scene. No matter how many times I did this, it didn't get any easier. We snapped on latex and I pulled a vial of Vicks Vapor Rub from my blazer pocket and smeared it under my nose. I offered it to Mulder and Pam who both took advantage. The smell was nauseating, but bearable with the Vicks. Mulder might be the one with the eidetic memory but mine was no slouch. I'd done hundreds of autopsies. I rarely forgot the faces of the dead, or the details about the people who were killed, even though I'd seen so many. The random senselessness of death never failed to sucker punch me in the gut. My noble intentions to be a voice for the dead had long ago hardened my emotions with clinical detachment. It was my armor against the appalling reality of death. That armor was heavy sometimes though and if I let it, it would become crippling. Like most, I thought of many deaths as senseless. Unlike most, it usually wasn't a mystery to me. Science and forensics explained ninety-nine percent of the deaths that occurred out there. Stabbing and strangling are two of the most personal ways to murder someone. Despite this killer's attention to detail, such as leaving no prints behind, and his removal of the woman's uterus, he had been in a rage. "Whoa, holy mother overkill," Mulder said quietly. The woman was naked, face up on the bed. Her torso was a roadmap of stab wounds. Even her face had been stabbed, one cut nearly taking her nose off. I carefully began to count the wounds I could see while Mulder made his own observations. "I count at least thirty separate stab wounds here," I said quietly. I always spoke quietly around the dead, except in the autopsy bay when I had to record. It was a form of respect. I heard footsteps behind us but didn't look up. I heard a female say, "Working and playing well with others again, Pammy? What did you do to Jenkins?" "Pammy?" Mulder questioned. I looked up to see a blonde D.C. Cop in uniform. Her hair was short and spiky. She stood about five feet, eight inches tall and had her hat tucked under her elbow. Agent Weston rolled her eyes. "Agents Mulder and Scully, this is Lieutenant Cici de Milo, D.C.P.D." We tore off latex and shook hands. "Pammy?" Mulder repeated his question. I gave him a dirty look. Pam said, "Watch it or I'll call you Venus." Cici merely smiled and smirked at Agent Weston. Pamela sighed as though long-suffering. Then she looked Mulder in the eye, almost defiantly and said, "This is my girlfriend." Mulder gave her his mega-watt smile, the one with teeth and said, "You go girl." She was shocked out of her defiance and she laughed. Cici did too. "Nice to meet you," she said. She turned to Pam. "Do I need to run interference with Mr. Little Ego out there?" Pam grinned. "No, just leave it alone. Let's not make it worse." "I'll invite him to join me at the autopsy," I offered. "That might calm him down a bit. I'll say I could use the help. Most medical examiners will kill for a chance to see Quantico's morgue." Pam nodded. "That would be great." We resumed our examination of the crime scene, making notes on the blood splatter and other details about the scene. We took our time and finally cleared it for the team of techs waiting outside the door. As we were leaving the room, Mulder asked, "Who sent her the flowers?" He pointed to a vase on the bedside table. "I don't know, I'll try to find out. Sorry to call you out on your day off," Pamela said as we were leaving. I shrugged. "Mulder didn't know what to do with himself, anyway," I said teasingly. She grinned. "Then he's not trying hard enough," she joked. Mulder laughed and said, "I took care of that first." Pam winked at him. "At least you got your priorities straight." I snorted and tried to hide my blush as we made our way to the car, pushing reporters out of the way. Just then a limo pulled up and the reporters changed directions. Camera flashes went off as the mayor stepped out of the car. "That's our cue," Mulder said. We slid into the car and pulled away from the curb. One of the downsides of being a SAC was dealing with the media and with the local politicos. I was glad that was Pamela's job and not mine. XXXXXXXXXX FBI TRAINING ACADEMY QUANTICO, VIRGINIA MORGUE LATER THAT AFTERNOON I called Dr. Carl Jenkins at the D.C. Medical Examiner's office and left a note with his secretary that the autopsy would take place at 4:00 PM that afternoon. I told her Dr. Jenkins was invited to meet me at the morgue in Quantico if he wished to attend and assist. I had no doubts that he would pass this up and so wasn't surprised when he appeared in the bay, already suited up. "Dr. Jenkins," I greeted him. "Thank you for inviting me, Agent Scully," he said. "You're welcome. Always easier with two." "I'm sure you could find some rookies here at the academy that would love to assist you," he countered. He was probably fishing for compliments, so I gave him one. "No room for rookies on this one, Dr. Jenkins." He puffed up under the compliment. "Well, when do we start?" "In a couple of minutes. I was just going over my notes." Just then, said rookie wheeled the table out, carrying the body of one, Melissa Anne Sebert and anchored it into place in the floor. "Thanks, Jenny," I said to the student. She smiled and nodded. "Always a pleasure, Dr. Scully." Then she left. "Ready?" I asked Dr. Jenkins. "Ready when you are," he reported. For the next three hours neither of us looked up other than to make notes, arrange for lab work, or speak into the recorder. When we were all finished and I asked if he would like to sew her back up, he seemed delighted. I stood back and made some more notes. When he was finished, I hit the intercom and Jenny reappeared to take the body back to refrigerated storage. We cleaned up and I handed my notes to Dr. Jenkins. He looked up, clearly surprised and asked, "Kr85?" "Krypton," I explained. "We've found it in the other three victims. That's why I'm having them test for it. Why, does that mean anything to you?" "Not really," he said, but he looked uneasy. "I thought the media were shortening Kryptonite because of the all the Superman rubbish in the press." "Nope. The other way around." "Oh, well, that is interesting. Well, I'll be going. Thanks again for including me." "Not a problem. Thanks for the help." "Right, good bye, Agent Scully." He walked out and I stood there pondering for a moment. When I walked out into the lobby of the Academy building, Mulder was waiting for me. "Hey, Doc Jenkins just took off out of here like his ass was on fire." "He did? You know, he acted funny when he saw the order for the Krypton test." "He did?" Without asking, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Agent Weston? Yeah, Agent Mulder, here. Can we put a tale on Dr. Jenkins? Someone he won't recognize if they see him. Right. Just a hunch. Okay, thanks." He hung up. "That's a pretty big hunch, Mulder." "Never hurts to cover your ass. He was acting funny at the crime scene too." "He was acting like a typical local that's had his toes stepped on." "It was more than that. He wasn't just pissed off." "What else was he?" "Nervous," Mulder proclaimed. XXXXXXXXXX PART 6 (PG-13) D.C. MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE WASHINGTON, D.C. THURSDAY MORNING Pamela had asked Cici de Milo's partner, Craig Fallon, to tail Dr. Jenkins. Yesterday, he had returned to the office, and left shortly thereafter carrying some folders. He followed him to his home and then staked him out. He never left for the rest of night. In the morning, minutes before Craig was to be relieved by another officer, Jenkins left his house and headed south. Craig called in to say he had gotten on the beltway and then exited in Falls Church. He was now traveling south on Route 495. We told him to stay with him. Meanwhile, we beat feet over the office and flashed our badges at the secretary, one, Christina McFay. She seemed flustered and impressed with our badges. At the same time, she was torn between cooperating and protecting her boss. "We just need to check his office for some files," I said. I sent him back yesterday with some information and I need to double-check it. He performed the autopsy with me yesterday at Quantico." "Oh yes!" she said. "He was very excited that you had invited him. Said what an honor it was." I smiled at her. "Can we take a quick look? I promise we won't disturb anything. I'll bet he has his notes right there on his desk somewhere." "All right," she sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt." We entered the office, closing the door behind us. Mulder locked it quietly, hoping the secretary wouldn't notice. He headed for the row of three filing cabinets on the side wall of the office. I went straight for the desk. Naturally, its drawers were locked but I had them open with a lock pick gun in no time. I yanked open the bottom draw and hit pay dirt. "Mulder, look at this," I hissed quietly. He came over and peered over my shoulder. There was a row of files, ten of them, with names on top. Four of them were our victims. I scooped them up and slid them into my briefcase. "I'm thinking 'other victims'," he whispered. "Or potential ones. Let's get the task force on tracking these other six women down." I was about the close the drawer, when he said, "What's that?" I peered into the drawer and there were three more folders near the back. I grabbed those too, closed and relocked the drawer. I made a couple of cryptic medical notes on a piece of paper on his stationary and then ripped it off. We opened the office doors to find Christina heading for us. "Oh, there you are." I waved the piece of stationary. "We found it, right there on his desk, like I thought." "What took you so long?" she asked suspiciously. "Well, actually it was under the blotter. It took me a minute to find it." "Oh, okay. Well, have a good day agents." "We will. Thanks so much for your help, Christina. You were great," Mulder said to her in that voice that melts all women. She smiled widely at him and almost blushed. "You're welcome," she said as she returned to her desk. We waved merrily on the way out. Mulder was dialing his phone before we slid into the car. "Agent Weston? Pam, right. Uh, Pam, we need to meet right now. Potential victims in folders on Dr. Jenkins desk. May be nothing. Yeah, meet you in the basement, twenty minutes." He hung up. "She's on her way back to Hoover. We'll meet her there." I stepped on the gas. I hoped we weren't too late. XXXXXXXXXX J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING BASEMENT OFFICE THURSDAY - NOON We beat Pam back to the office and she hurried in moments later. We already had the folders spread out on the desk, opened to the first pages. Pictures and biographies on all the girls were listed on the front page. We had our known four victims up front. The others were next to them. "Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed as she looked at them. "What made you suspect Jenkins?" "We don't know it's him yet," I cautioned. "I'll put out an APB on those girls. If any of them are reported missing, the cops will call us." I had already written their names and addresses down. "I suggest we sent a team of agents to each of these six addresses. See if anything looks odd. If we can't get in, or they are missing, we'll get search warrants." "I have Judge Cambrey on standby for warrants." "Good, let's go," Mulder said. "Where are we going?" I asked. "The first girl's house." "Wait a minute," I said. "Slow down. I need to think for a minute." Pam's cell phone rang and she answered, "Weston." "Where? Stake him out. Let us know if he leaves." She hung up. "That was Craig. He detoured onto 620, and stopped at a fleabag motel in Indian Springs." Mulder said, "I changed my mind. I think we'll go to Indian Springs." "We don't know if it's him yet, Mulder." "We have to bring him in. We've got enough circumstantial evidence for an arrest." "We haven't tied him to the crimes yet." "What about these folders?" "They prove nothing, Mulder, except that he's following the case. Until we have more on these girls, we're overstepping if we haul him in now. If he lawyers up, it will be even worse. He could nail us for false arrest if it isn't him." "No he can't. Not for 72 hours. On a federal crime, we can hold him under suspicion alone for 72 hours," he said adamantly. I sighed. "Let's visit these houses. Even if we can't get in, we can probably question neighbors to see if they've been seen in the last couple of days. That should give us some idea what we're dealing with. If these girls are there and they are potential victims, we can stake them out. He goes for one of them and we nail him red handed." "I don't want to use those women as bait," he spit out. Pam said, "She's right, Mulder. Right now, we've got nothing." "Damn it!" he shouted. "Your spider sense tingling, Mulder?" I asked him. Pam looked at me weird, but said nothing. Mulder nodded. "How often am I wrong, Scully?" he asked quietly, his eyes pleading with me. "I know, but it's no good if he gets off on a technicality," I reasoned. Pam gasped and said, "Wait a minute. This last one, Victoria Smalls." "Yeah?" I asked. "She lives in Indian Springs." "SHIT!" we all said at the same time. Mulder was already putting on his coat, as I grabbed my laptop. Pamela said, "I'm going with you." XXXXXXXXXX PART 7 (R) NELLIE'S MOTEL INDIAN SPRINGS, VA ROOM 246 THAT AFTERNOON We found out what room he was in from the desk clerk. He'd signed in under the name, Jake Carlton. Not a very imaginative pseudonym. We knew it was him since he was the only one that had checked in that day so far. We'd gone to Victoria Smalls' house and inquired with the neighbors. She worked at a small deli downtown. We'd found her there, hail and hearty. We asked her if she knew Dr. Carl Jenkins. She said she did. She'd dated his brother, Kurt Jenkins. Several questions later, we found out that she and Kurt had broken up some time ago but they were still friends. He worked for a lighting company called DayGlow in Greenway Downs, a town just south of Falls Church. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. After contacting the local police and putting a couple of officers in place to bodyguard Victoria, we'd all gone to her house and checked everything out. Nothing was out of the ordinary except for a vase of flowers on the stoop from her secret admirer. She said she'd been getting them for a couple of weeks. We made our way to the hotel, where we found Craig Fallon. He looked exhausted. Since he'd been up over 24 hours, I could hardly blame him. However, he gamely reported to us that Jenkins had not left the room and got out to join in the arrest. Meanwhile, we'd gotten a call from Agent Will Ferris and his partner Agent Angela Weiss. They'd been assigned to get a search warrant go to Jenkins' house. They'd found clear ampoules that appeared to be empty in his refrigerator and assumed they were old insulin bottles or something. They were told to bag them for evidence. Angela called back as we were arriving back at the hotel and said the lab had confirmed that the ampoules contained Krytpon. We could now tie him to the victims. Mulder knocked on the door to Room 246 as Pam, Craig, and I stood to the side. He turned sideways, ready to spring should the good doctor freak out. He opened the door saying, "I didn't order room service. Oh!" He was clearly startled when he saw Mulder. "May I come in, Dr. Jenkins?" "Uh, yes. How did you find me here? I was just trying to get away for a couple days. Did you follow me? What's going on?" He rapid-fired questions at Mulder as he entered the room, leaving the door open behind him. "Dr. Jenkins. You're under arrest for the first degree murder of Melissa Anne Sebert, Jacqueline Colter, Maryann Cedars, and Dierdre Cummings." "What! This is outrageous. How dare you barge in here?" Mulder pulled his handcuffs off his belt and the doctor bolted for door. Craig easily stepped into his path, blocking the exit. Craig was a big man, six feet, four inches tall, and well built. He filled the doorway, and Jenkins nearly ran directly into him. Mulder reached for his hand and the doctor pulled it away. Craig easily grabbed arm. Mulder grabbed the other and cuffed him. "You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand? Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand? You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand? If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. Do you understand? If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Do you understand? Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?" Mulder finished reading him his Miranda rights. "No!" "No, you don't understand?" Mulder clarified. "Yes, I understand. No, I'm not willing to answer your questions!" "Very well. We'll talk to you once we're back in Washington." "I didn't do this!" "Tell it to the Judge," Mulder said as he force-marched him out to the car, and put him in the back seat of Craig's unmarked sedan that had a metal grate separating the back seat from the front. Pam said she would drive, since Craig was exhausted. He could sleep on the way home if he wanted to. We agreed and got into our government issued Taurus. We followed them out of the parking lot after I informed the clerk that Room 246 was vacated. I'd also grabbed his overnight bag and folders, fortunately having the foresight to wear gloves and dump it all in a big evidence bag. Later, we found out his set of surgical knives used in autopsies were in a lovely case and traveling with him. Hard to explain why you might need those on a little mini-vacation. The success was bittersweet after charging him with the murders. Two of the other girls were dead and still in their homes. One had been dead for months and was badly decomposed. She'd had no living relatives and no friends. No one had missed her. It was sad. The other three, besides Victoria, however, were still hail and hearty. Apparently, one Kurt Jenkins, college football jock, had always shared a rivalry with his older brother, Craig. He's always been athletic, always got the girls and despite Craig's higher education and intelligence, always seemed to outshine Craig. It was the oldest story in the book. Mulder said there was more to it and as usual, he was right. After a medical exam to make sure he was fit to stand trial, it was found that he had a severe disfigurement to his genitals. While he had a small penis, he had been born without testicles, and had the remnants of female genitalia. He'd almost been a hermaphrodite. Later information revealed by Kurt informed us that he'd taken Craig to a prostitute when he was in his early twenties. She'd tried everything but Craig had been unable to perform. They'd never discussed the incident again but Craig knew that Kurt knew. This hatred for self and everything female had festered for years. The sex issue aside, he never got attention from women like Kurt did either. His premature baldness, skinny frame and puckish attitude had kept them at bay. The stressor had been when he asked Deirdre Cummings out on a date after Kurt dumped her. He'd only had designs on becoming friends and in some small way, besting Kurt. She'd flat out rebuffed him, laughed at him, and asked if she was supposed to be impressed that he was doctor. He had impressed her all right. He'd snapped and killed her. This had given him a sense of empowerment and a thrill he'd never experienced with women before. The die was cast. He continued to try and date Kurt's 'left overs' as he called them, somehow convincing himself that they owed him friendship after what Kurt had done to them. After all, he was only trying to comfort them after his selfish prick of a brother dumped them. Each time he was rebuffed, he left, sent them flowers and appeared at the next available opportunity and killed them for their transgressions. Over the next weeks, the story unfolded in gory detail. Of course, the press lapped it up. Pamela tried to give us credit, but we waved it off and told her we didn't want the limelight. She grudgingly took the credit and got a promotion out of it. She was now a permanent SAC in VCS with her own team, not just on task forces. We'd made a new friend in the Bureau and felt good about that. He had lawyered up as we suspected and the case dragged out. We invited Pamela and Cici out to dinner to celebrate the arrest. Craig and his wife, Carmella, came too, and we really enjoyed going out with the other couples like we never had before. I really had forgotten what fun it was to socialize. Mulder had never had this kind of friendship with other couples so it was all new to him. He was obviously surprised at how much he was enjoying it. He was more relaxed and confident, not just in our personal life, but at the office around other agents as well. Pamela sung his praises at work to the point where I think some agents were actually considering revising their opinion of Spooky Mulder. He looked happy and content. It was a good look on him and I told him so. XXXXXXXXXX PART 8 (NC-17) DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT GEORGETOWN, D.C. TWO WEEKS LATER "So June 20th?" Mulder said softly. "It's a date," I said quietly in return. He leaned down and kissed me. "I can't wait to call you Mrs. Mulder." I smiled and kissed him again. We shed our clothes right there in the living room. He seemed almost frantic as he moved me onto all fours on the couch. "Mulder, the bedroom?" I asked. "Can't wait that long," he grunted. His hands slid around to cup my breasts and I moaned. XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX I felt his cock bob against my bare bottom. His hand came between my legs and he parted my soaking wet nether lips. "Oh God," I moaned. "You're so wet," he grunted in approval. His hands moved to my hips and he entered me in one powerful thrust. I moaned in appreciation as I felt my arousal begin to climb as he began to thrust. His pleasure was apparent and I was secretly thrilled that I excited him to the point where he couldn't wait to get to the bedroom. The sounds of our mutual moaning and the smells of sex filled the room as his ferocity increased. I felt him slip in and out, in and out, the gentle sway and slap of his balls on my clitoris drove me higher. The air was charged with the tension of our impending climaxes. I had no doubt I would come. He always made me come. It was like he was on a mission or something. He'd never once left me hanging, even if he'd had to finish me off with his hands and mouth. I wasn't complaining. His hands found my breasts again and lifted me up against him. My back arched and he was now entering me at an angle. I knew the moment he had found my G-spot. I could feel my womb spasm with want. I cried out, "Oh Jesus, yes!" My orgasm took me over, and I tingled from the base of my spine to the top of my head. My vagina squeezed his shaft harshly and he barked, "Oh Scully, yeah!" I felt the warm splash of his seed as he became still, embedded deeply inside me. I felt the pulse again and cried out in pleasure. Mulder fell backwards and bounced on the couch. I laughed as we toppled over. I ended up laying on him with my back to his chest. His now flaccid penis slipped out of me and I sighed. We were sweaty and warm but I didn't care. He lifted his head and kissed my ear. "I love you so much, Scully." "I love you too, Mulder." "So, June 20th, huh?" he asked again. I smiled. "Yes, Mulder. You can tell everyone the date is set." "Woo Hoo," he chortled. I chuckled. "Nothing will get in the way, I promise," I reassured him. "Nothing? You sure?" "I promise. I don't care if there's ten Krypton Killers out there. They'll have to wait until after June 20th." "After July first," he corrected. "I intend to take you on a lengthy honeymoon." "Oh really?" "Yes, ma'am." "Do tell," I commanded. "Don't want to ruin the surprise." "How can you not tell me where we're going on our honeymoon? Don't I get a say in the matter?" "Nope. I can tell you this." "What?" "Pack a bikini." I chuckled to myself, knowing I would weasel it out of him eventually. In six months, I would be Mrs. Mulder. I couldn't wait. Whatever was in store, I knew I could handle it if Mulder was by my side. XXXXXXXXXX It would be nearly a year before Carl Jenkins was finally taken to trial. A jury of his peers convicted him on six counts of murder. The judge sentenced him to six consecutive life sentences of 25 years each, effectively ensuring he would never get parole and be let out on the streets again. His attorneys had managed to dodge the death penalty. Oh well, you couldn't have everything. Despite the poor girls that hadn't made it, it was one for the win column; four potential victims and God knew how many other future victims had been spared. THE END.