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Title: Headless Summary: An investigation of bizarre murders in Upstate New York brings Mulder face to face with the past. Thanks must go to my editing gang - the #defer crowd and the MG folks - for making this story somewhat coherent. This is a crossover with the Commish, but it should make sense on its own, since there's only one character (Cyd) from the show and I play around with her background anyway. It's also MSR. If that's not your thing, back out now. Still here? Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.
Oak Port, New York Jack Steuben was pissed off. What right did that fat idiot Carl have in promoting Timmy - Jack couldn't bring himself to call the kid Timothy - over him? Hell, he'd been working at the store for almost eight years. Timmy comes whistling in after his second year of college and bang, he gets a promotion inside of a month. Wasn't fair. On top of that, the bills were coming in left and right. Babies were so damn expensive - food and medicine and clothes and all that other crap Laura kept buying for Jack Jr. It was bleeding him dry. Wasn't fair, either. So what if he spent an hour after work at Stingray's? It was a free country. A man needed to take some time off and just relax. Couldn't do it at home, with Jack Jr. crying at all hours and Laura not much better. It wasn't fair. He never got drunk - just a few beers and the walk home to cool him off. So Jack knew that he wasn't seeing things in his head when he walked over the hill alongside Tromp Creek. Jack frowned - if he wasn't hallucinating, then what the hell was it? Jack squinted and stared at the - whatever it was. It was too far away to really make out. Just something bright, like a big torch, and getting closer. Maybe it was a car headlight. Or a motorcycle. The light got closer as Jack watched, until finally he could see what it was. He started laughing at the sight of it, and was still laughing as it came closer. Then he began to scream. The screams didn't last very long. That, certainly, wasn't fair. Not at all. J. Edgar Hoover Building "A headless horseman? Mulder, Halloween isn't for another couple days." Scully set the file down and munched down on a candy bar from the bowl on her desk. "It's no joke, Scully. At least not to Jack Steuben's widow. Something killed Mr. Steuben." "Something, just not a headless horseman." Mulder shrugged. "Oak Port's right up the road from Sleepy Hallow." "Mulder, it's a story. Fiction." "Based on local legends. Who's to say there isn't some fact behind the fiction?" "A headless horseman...Okay, Mulder. But when you're proved wrong, I think you should buy me dinner to make up for wasting a weekend." "Deal, " Mulder replied, shaking her hand to seal the deal. "Sucker, " Scully whispered. "What?" She hid her smile behind the file. "Nothing." Another glance at the file caused her to raise an eyebrow. "This didn't go through the regular Bureau channels - it's a request directly to you." "Uh - yes, the police commissioner is ex-FBI. We worked together on a few cases before she left the Bureau." "Really? You must have made some impression on her, Mulder." Scully set the file down. "So when do we get to meet her?" "This afternoon, USAir Flight 1110 out of BWI." He glanced at his watch. "That reminds me...I have to stop by the apartment and pick up my stuff. Meet you at the airport?" "Okay, Mulder, " Scully said, as she swatted his hand away from the candy on her desk. Baltimore-Washington International Airport Scully sighed and sank deeper into the uncomfortable seat. "This is a sign, Mulder." "It's probably just a problem with fueling the plane." "It's a sign, " Scully repeated, flipping through the Washington Post for the third time. "God is telling us this case is a waste of time and that we should go back now." "We already filed the paperwork. C'mon, Scully, it'll be a nice trip up the Hudson." Scully sighed. "I remember the last nice trip we took, Mulder. I'm going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?" "Just a magazine." "Okay." Scully smiled as she headed towards the Pizza Hut. She returned a few minutes later with a brown box and a small plastic bag, which she dumped on Mulder's lap. "I asked for a - cute, Scully, very cute." Mulder pulled a copy of The Sketch-Book by Washington Irving out of the bag. Scully's reply was lost as she took another bite of pizza. Oak Port, NY The sunset was beautiful, making the softly rolling waters of the Hudson appear to glow from within. The trees were bathed in a brilliant red-orange glow that was a sharp contrast to the dark blue sky above. All of it was lost on Scully as she watched Mulder get out of the car and walk right into the arms of another woman. Shaking her head, Scully slipped out of the car and waited for Mulder to pull himself out of the hug. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat. Mulder flinched and disentangled himself. "Oh. Cyd, this is my partner Dana Scully. Dana, Commissioner Cyd Madison." "Hi! It's nice to meet you, " Cyd said, barely pausing to shake Scully's hand before she turned back to Mulder. "Hi..." Scully replied, trying not to stare at the tall, attractive red-head. Her stomach was suddenly starting to reject the pizza. "A headless horseman?" Cyd nodded, embarrassed. "Well, that's what the old people are saying. I don't know how much I'd trust them, but there is a body in the morgue and we - I - have no idea how it got there." "The EMTs?" Scully asked. She smiled innocently at Mulder's warning glare. "Scully, why don't you take a look at the body while Cyd and I go check out the murder scene?" How practical of you, Mulder. "Jack Steuben isn't going anywhere, Mulder. I might be able to find something the local police missed." She paused a beat. "No offense, Cyd." "None taken, " Cyd replied slowly. "Well...let's go, then. I'll drive." "Oh, good -" Mulder nudged Scully with his shoe. "Thanks. Is it safe to leave the car here?" "Yes - we never have any problems around here like that." "Except for the Headless Horseman, right?" Cyd glanced at Mulder, who just shrugged and got into the front passenger seat of the Cyd's car. Scully squeezed into the back and had to twist into an awkward position to fit behind the pushed back front seat. "This is the third murder with the same MO this year. All the victims were decapitated - it's almost like their heads were burned off without any damage to the rest of the body." "A flame-thrower, maybe, " Scully said. "There's nothing supernatural about that, you know." "No flame-thrower is that precise. And...well, all the victims are from old families - descendants of the original Dutch settlers when this was still Eikpoort." "Aside from that, do they have any connection?" "No. Mr. Steuben was a clerk at a convenience store. Karen Witte was a bank teller. And Andy Brouwer was an artist. As far as I can tell, they never even met. But they all died on the same stretch of highway out near Duivelbridge. Here we are." Scully got out of the car and stared at the empty road. A few yards from the chalk outline, a brick footpath lead up to a covered bridge that spanned a small creek. The oak trees that lined the road partially obscured the bridge. Scully stared at the bridge. In the moonlight, it must have been just barely visible when you came around the bend in the road. In fact, right where Jack Steuben had died was probably the first place you could actually see the bridge at night. "Once you cross that bridge, my frien - oww!" Mulder winced and rubbed his shoulder where Scully had slapped it. "You deserved that, Mulder, " Scully shot back. She knelt down next to the outline of Jack Steuben's body. There was only a jagged chalk line where his neck should have been. "The heads are all missing?" "Aside from some ashes and the pumpkin, yes." "Pumpkin?" "Someone left a smashed pumpkin where the head was in each case." "It sounds like a prank to me." "If you want to call murder 'a prank', " Cyd replied impatiently. "What happened to a little cooperation? Did the Bureau change the rules? I haven't been out that long, have I?" "Scully's having a bad day, Cyd. The flight wasn't very good." "The flight was fine. But I think this case is a waste of Bureau funds." "Okay...do you have anything else to offer?" Cyd challenged. "I can't really tell you anything here. I'll have to examine the bodies." Mulder rolled his eyes. "I could have - " "Mulder, what have you been up to the last couple years?" Cyd asked, steering him towards the car. "How is Danny? Is he still buried in that tiny office by the bathroom?" Scully glared at their backs and reluctantly headed for the cramped backseat of the Lexus. One good bump would send her knees right through her ribcage, she realized glumly while Mulder and Cyd chatted amiably about the good old days. A few short, but uncomfortable, minutes later, they reached the police station, an old brick building that looked like it could use a George Washington Slept Here plaque. Once again, Scully peeled herself out of the backseat in time to watch Mulder hold the door open for Cyd. Guess her fingers are broken, eh, Mulder? "This isn't exactly a very modern facility, " Scully pointed out, glancing around the inside of the station. Andy Taylor would be right at home here. Sherlock Holmes, too. "This? Oh, this is just the old station house. The real one is up the street, but this is where the morgue is, " Cyd replied, heading for an old-fashioned elevator. "I think we should move the morgue to the new station, but Dr. Baratieri refuses to budge. He's the best medical examiner I've ever met, so I don't really push it too much." Scully rolled her eyes. He can't come up with anything better than a headless horseman? Some M.E. The elevator doors slid open and the three of them got in. "These things really need to be fixed. Carl - the maintenance chief - he can never get the doors to stop squeaking." "They look like something out of the 20s." Cyd smiled. "That was my idea. I thought it was a nice touch." "It's...quaint, " Scully replied. "I hope the morgue isn't like this." Cyd just shrugged as the doors opened again. "Wow, " Mulder said, stepping out of the elevator. "Is Dr. McCoy stowed around here? This place is huge, Cyd." "It's the best morgue between New York and Albany." All three of them turned towards the speaker, a tall, dark haired man in a bloodstained lab apron. He lowered the surgical mask, revealing a strong jaw, straight nose and a mouth that seemed ill at ease in a frown. His gaze swept across the three of them, lingering for a moment longer than necessary on Scully. "Sorry about the mess, " he said, closing the distance between them. Mulder didn't miss the fact that he ended up standing right in front of Scully. Practically breathing down her neck. "I'm finishing up the autopsy on Steuben. Just like the other ones, boss. Death by decapitation or incineration of the head." "Albert, this is Agent Scully. She'll will be helping with the medical aspects of the investigation." Baratieri smiled and kissed Scully's hand. Mulder shook his head - what a faker. "And this is Agent Mulder." Cyd smiled at Baratieri's curt nod. "Aren't you going to kiss my hand too?" Mulder asked innocently. Baratieri pointedly ignored him, turning to Scully. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Scully. Maybe you can help figure out just what killed these people. I've never seen anything like it - not even when I was in the Army." "Are there any injuries secondary to the decapitation?" "Aside from some charring around the shoulders and upper chest, none. No internal injuries, either." "Have you done a toxicological?" Baratieri nodded. "Steuben had a high blood-alcohol level, but he'd spent most of the night at a bar. The other two were clean." "What about trace evidence?" "Well, there is some fascinating residue under the fingernails, but I'm not sure what it is - it might be some form of spray, like Mace. I sent it down to a lab in the city, but the results won't be here for another day or two. They've got a huge backlog." "Albert, Mulder and I are going to talk to Miss Laurence - " "Yes, yes. Why don't you take a look at it, Dr. Scully? I saved a sample. Maybe you've run across it before - it's mildly toxic, but I'm not sure what the makeup of it is. It could be some form of..." Dr. Baratieri's excited explanation faded into a low mumble as Cyd and Mulder retreated to the elevator. "He's...interesting, " Mulder said as the elevator doors slid shut. "Where did you dig him up?" "Albert? He came with the job. Ex-Army or something. He's mostly harmless." Mulder frowned. Pendrell is mostly harmless. This guy is definitely dangerous. "Miss Laurence is kind of the old bat around here. She stares out the window all night with a pair of binoculars, but she's a sweet old lady...so keep the kid gloves on." "My middle name is Courteous." "All this time, I thought it was William." "No, I had it changed." Mulder ran a finger across the leather of the dashboard. "You've done pretty well here. Guess the real money is at the local level." "God, you're grouchy, " she replied. "I haven't seen you this upset since Kolchak the Night Stalker got canceled. Could it be...Albert?" "Who? Oh, the doctor?" Mulder snorted and turned to stare at the pretty brick houses. "You're not fooling me, Mulder. I even have - had a fantasy about him when I first got here - but that's not important." "You and Dr. Frankenstein? Oh, come on." Cyd shrugged. "He's a handsome man. And I was - am - extremely single." She laughed suddenly. "Do you remember our sophomore year?" "Oh, God...I've spent twenty years trying to forget. Our first date... remember that?" "Oh, yes..." "Well, what did you think of me?" "Honestly? I thought you were just like all the other guys my parents tried to hook me up with. Cute but stuck up." "Are you kidding? I was terrified..." "Of me?" Cyd burst out laughing. "Me?" "Yes you!" "So we've established you were an asshole and I was a bitch. Does that about cover it?" "More or less. Except I paid for dinner. That gave me the right to be a jerk." "No offense, Fox, but you were always a jerk back then." "You weren't much better. I think the phrase 'teenage rebel' is appropriate. Did you ever get that tattoo removed?" "Well - well - oh, we're here." Cyd slammed on the Lexus' brakes. "Remember, kid gloves." "Kid gloves." The door swung open as they approached. An elderly woman with white hair and a pair of plastic rimmed glasses with bright eyes behind them frowned. She stared at them warily. "Who are you? I told you, I ain't selling the house to anybody." Another longer look over. "Even if they are a cute couple." "Um...I'm Commissioner Madison, Miss Laurence. Do you remember me from the neighborhood watch meeting? And this is agent Mulder from the FBI." "Oh. FBI?" Miss Laurence smiled and smoothed out her dress. "Come in! Want something to drink?" "What do you have?" Cyd asked, shrugging at Mulder. "Humor her, " she whispered. "Whiskey...vodka. I think I still have that Glenmorangie the kids sent me...You just sit down and I'll get something nice." From the kitchen, they could hear her rummaging through cabinets. "How reliable can she be?" Mulder whispered, pointing at the empty shot glasses that littered the living room. "Trust me. I know my people." Cyd bit her lip and stared at an empty beer bottle. I hope so. Miss Laurence returned, a tray with bottles of various types of alcohol on it. "Now, I bet you're here about that horrible business from the other night. I saw the whole thing through my glasses here." She patted a well-used telescope that stood in front of the only clean window. "I was watching the moon, it was - hold on." Miss Laurence pulled a notebook off the nearby table. "I keep a log. October 27...yes, right after midnight. It was a full moon, and the light was excellent, so I could see the whole thing. Just awful." "What did you see?" "That poor man, stumbling along home - honestly, there are so many drunkards these days, it's shameful. He was about twenty yards from the old bridge when the ghost came riding up." "Ghost?" Mulder and Cyd asked in unison. Miss Laurence nodded. "The Hessian. Oh, haven't you heard the story? Here, have a drink. You'll need it." She poured herself a glass of scotch and chugged it down in one gulp. "This is an old, old town. The Dutch founded it, centuries ago, just after they built New Amsterdam. Lots of ghosts here - the Old Knickerbocker in the Town Square, the ghost of Mr. van Rik, the Wailing Woman on Route 8. And the Hessian. Drink! You're going to starve, children." Cyd took a sip of beer and swallowed it down with a grimace. "It's... good." "What about you, sonny? You look like you hit back the liquor." Mulder grabbed a random bottle and took a swig. The contents, whatever they were, left his mouth burning. "Mmm...good..." "Now, the Hessian. It was during the Revolution. He was a mercenary for the British, running up and down the Hudson looking for Rebels. But he never counted on running into Peter Krieg and his Minutemen. They had a battle - right out there, on the old road. It ended with Krieg blasting a cannon right at the Hessian and his men. It hit the Hessian - bang! - right in the head. Took that Hun's noggin clean off." "That's the Headless Horseman story." Miss Laurence nodded. "That Irving ripped off our legend and fiddled with it. Ichabod Crane - have you ever heard of such a strange name?" Mulder shook his head, ignoring Cyd's smirk. "So you saw the ghost - it killed Steuben?" "Yes! It was awful. He just grabbed the poor man by the head and it started burning." She shivered and pulled her dress tighter around her thin frame. "At least he died quickly. My brother Terrence - now that was a shame. Cancer of the lungs." "What happened to the - the ghost, after he killed Steuben?" "Oh, he rode off with that poor man's head and disappeared over the bridge. Poof! Just like the stories say. It's the bridge to Hell." "Thank you for your help, Miss Laurence." Cyd replaced the beer on the tray and grabbed Mulder by the collar. "We'll call you if we have any more questions." She nodded absently and reached for the whisky bottle. "Take care." "That was less than useful, Mulder. Ghosts?" Cyd grumbled, digging in her purse for the keys to the Lexus. "You would hate the X-Files." "Speaking of which, why was your partner's trigger finger twitching when we left her?" Mulder shrugged. "She can be...territorial." "I just hope she hasn't clawed Albert's eyes out. I need him." She noticed Mulder's grin and hastily added "He's a great doctor." Mulder smiled and slipped into the car without a word. Oak Port Police Department "Have you ever seen anything like it?" Dr. Baratieri asked, leaning in close to peer in the microscope with Scully. "No...is it organic?" She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "You only found it under the fingernails?" "Yes. Odd, isn't it? Take a look at the next level of magnification." He reached out and adjusted the knob, sending shivers down her back when his arm brushed against her shoulder. "Oh my God - what IS that?" "I have no idea. Something I've never seen." "It's amazing, " Scully replied. She leaned back and bumped into his chest. Oh, my... "I can't wait to see what the lab has to say about this." "It could be days. I hope you'll stay around. To help solve the case, of course." He stepped back. "As it is, I'm baffled. If I had to make a guess, I'd call it some kind of plant fluid." "But the cellular structure isn't like anything I've ever seen." She glanced up and let out a tiny sigh of pleasure. Those eyes... "Maybe it's a genetically engineered chemical. That would explain the abnormalities." "No genetic engineering can do that. Even the top of the line is decades away from this kind of result. It's as absurd as flying saucers or Bigfoot." "Mmh..." Scully shrugged and rubbed her shoulder. That damn car was killing her back. "Are you okay?" Dr. Baratieri asked. "I'm fine. It's my back - the muscles are sore." "Want a quick massage? I guarantee it will help." Scully's heart skipped a beat. Are you kidding? Those fingers could melt my spine. "I don't know..." she protested half-heartedly. "Come on. I learned it in the Army." "Okay." She sat down next to the microscope, ignoring the throbbing pain in her shoulders. He rested his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed, rubbing her muscles with his thumb. "Ooo, that's nice..." Scully murmured. The pain seemed to melt away under his hands. "In my team back in the Gulf, we had this guy who could work wonders on your back. He could lay one finger on a sore muscle and it would feel good as new, " Dr. Baratieri whispered into Scully's ear. "He said the trick is to - " "What the hell are you two doing?" "Mulder!" Scully shot up out of the chair, almost knocking Dr. Baratieri over. "You're back quick." "Too quick, I guess, " Mulder replied. He glared at Dr. Baratieri. "Did I interrupt something?" "No, nothing - we were just going over the - " "He was just rubbing my back - " "You were what?! Albert!" Cyd exclaimed, staring at the coroner in horror. "I - I - I don't believe this." "Chemical..." Dr. Baratieri finished lamely. "Good thing we got back before you two actually started an autopsy, " Mulder said. "Well, did you find anything of value?" "Uh - there's a possibility the chemical is genetically altered plant fluid, " Scully replied. "Are there any research labs around here?" "There's a lab at the SUNY campus outside of town, but they're hardly top of the line. Certainly incapable of something like this." Cyd rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Just beautiful." She tapped her heels on the floor. "You're earning your paycheck this week, Albert...Okay. Why don't we call it a day?" "Good idea. Maybe you can finish that back rub, Scully." "Maybe I will, " she snapped back. "Albert, do you know any good restaurants around here?" "Uh - yeah, a few." "Let's go, " Scully said, smiling sweetly at Mulder as she lead Dr. Baratieri towards the elevator. "Hey, wait, " Cyd protested under her breath. She glanced at Mulder. "I know a great Italian place out on the river. Want to come?" "No, I'm going back to the hotel. I need some sleep." "Oh. Well, okay. I'll see you in the morning, then." Natalie's Ristorante Italiano "Natalie's serves the best lasagna in the state. And the calamari is really good, Dana - can I call you Dana?" Dr. Baratieri asked, smiling nervously. "Hmm? Oh, sure, " Scully replied blankly. How could Mulder be such a jerk? It was just a back rub, for God's sake. It's not like she had been kissing him. Besides, who was he to talk? Visions of Detective White and Phoebe Green - that bitch - floated before her eyes. She shook her head - Mulder is NOT going to ruin the rest of my day - and scanned the menu. She sighed in frustration - everything looked good - and snapped it shut. "Cyd showed me this place. I'd lived here for three years, but I'd never seen it until she took me here, " Dr. Baratieri said. "I love the view of the river from here. I remember one time, Cyd and I had lunch out on the patio. There's nothing like eating in the fresh air." "Yes, it's really...great..." Scully replied, looking around for their waiter. "How long have you lived here now?" "In Oak Port? Five years. I moved here after I left the army - the old police commissioner needed a coroner." Dr. Baratieri frowned. "Carter Christopher...now there was a real old fashioned jerk. He was a stickler for details. Loved to play up meaningless drops in the crime rate as some kind of master plan he'd come up with. I can't tell you how glad I was when he retired and Cyd took over." Scully rolled her eyes and tore into another piece of Italian bread. He was worse than Pendrell. Easier on the eyes, though. The Graves Inn Who did that suburban quack think he was? Putting his hands on Scully's shoulders. Just a back rub, my ass. Mulder slammed the door shut and slid the deadbolt into place. What a miserable day. Scully and that faker were probably already - he refused to finish the thought. It was giving him a headache. He trudged into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Advil out of his toilet kit. Even apart from Dr. Strangelove putting the moves on Scully, this case made no sense. If it was a ghost, why was it leaving strange chemicals on the body? Unless Frankenstein had goofed up, which was certainly possible. And why the victims? They had nothing in common. He shrugged and came out of the bathroom. Hell with it. The case could wait until - Mulder did a double take and grabbed the VHS tape off the dresser. There was no label on it. He stared it for a second, then at the television across the room. Damn, no VCR. The police station would have one, though. Mulder smiled and grabbed his keys. Finally, a lead. Oak Port Police Station "Hi Melissa - working late?" Cyd asked, slipping out of her raincoat as she entered the police station. "Hi boss..yeah, catching up on some paperwork. Oh, by the way, that FBI agent is in the video room." "Who? Mulder?" Detective Rabey shrugged. "The tall handsome guy. He came in about half an hour ago." "Uh...is Albert here, by any chance?" "Sorry, boss. I think he's still at dinner." "Oh." Cyd sighed and headed for the video room. Maybe Mulder had somehow found something they'd missed before. She smiled - maybe he'd broken the case. Her smile vanished as she entered the video room. It was empty, lit only by the flickering glow of the television. A tape was in the machine. Frowning, Cyd pressed play. The blue screen faded to black, then gradually brightened again. It showed a snow-covered field at dusk - or dawn, it was impossible to tell. The Hudson could be seen in the background, frozen solid. For a few minutes, that was all, making Cyd wonder if Mulder had left out of boredom. Then, off to the side of the camera's field of view, a blurry shape appeared. Cyd gasped - the Hessian! It had to be. The Hessian rode across the field and stopped in front of an ancient oak tree. It - he? - dismounted and walked up to the tree, holding something in one hand. Cyd bit down on her lip when she realized it was a human head. The Hessian knelt down and laid the head at the base of the tree. The screen went black again. "Piet's Field, " an obviously electronically altered voice spoke. "The heads are in Piet's Field. If you go there before sunset, you will be safe." Cyd sighed. Well, that explains where Mulder had gone. Dammit! Why hadn't he called her cell-phone? Or at least his partner! He hadn't changed at all. Natalie's Ristorante Italiano "So then the Major looks at me and blinks. 'Oh. You mean the men. Oh, yes, the men, ' he says like it never occurred to him what I meant, " Albert said, laughing so hard his face turned red. "Cyd loves that joke." Scully smiled politely and took another bite of pasta as she inwardly winced. "Isn't the food great? I'm so glad Cyd brought me here that first time - I come here at least once a month now." Scully coughed. For someone so bright, Albert was dense as a log. Not for the first time in the past few minutes, she wished she hadn't left the cellular phone in the car. Even the annoying beep would be welcome rescue from this horror. "I hope that we're able to make some headway on this case - " Albert stopped and stared down at his lap. "Excuse me." He pulled out his cellphone. "Baratieri. Cyd! Oh, hi - it's Cyd, " he whispered to Scully. "What? He did? Where? Okay, we'll be there - yes, she's here. We'll be right there, Cyd." Albert hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. "What happened?" "Your partner ran off on his own to chase a lead. Let's go." "He did what?" Scully asked, following Albert towards the door. Mulder, if you haven't gotten yourself killed, I'm going to strangle you. Piet's Field Piet's Field was sheltered from the moonlight by passing clouds. Cyd picked her way through the tangled undergrowth, shining her flashlight around in circles. All she saw were the other cops searching the field. "No sign of her, boss, " Detective Rabey called out from the other end of the field. She sighed and pulled out her water bottle. Naya Spring Water wasn't quite as good as the Bordeaux in her wine rack at home, not that she'd get the chance to share it with anybody. Of course. This was just so Mulder. He hadn't changed since that stupid prom night. Meteor shower...some excuse for picking up the Prom Queen an hour late. Nobody had ever managed to humiliate her with quite that much flair. He was doing it again, too. How many commissioners pulling down six figure salaries went running around fields at midnight looking for air-headed FBI agents? The arriving car cut her off before she could answer the question. Albert and Scully emerged. "No sign of him yet, " Cyd said as they approached. "I've got men going over every inch of the field, though." "What did he say?" "He didn't say anything, Scully. He was already gone when I got to the police station." "God...that's so like him, " Scully muttered under her breath. She stared around the field in frustration. Mulder woke up and immediately regretted it. Below him, the ground was rushing by in a dizzying blur. Even worse, whatever he was resting on was bumping up and down and pounding against his ribs. He pulled his head up and tried not to scream at the face - if it could be called a face - staring back at him. The face was orange and round, with only round holes where the mouth and eyes should have been. On top of that, it was on fire. Mulder turned away and stared down at the horse. He swallowed upon realizing that the horse's hooves weren't actually hitting the ground. "This is my stop!" Mulder shouted. He tried pounding on the horse's side, but gave up when it reared and almost threw him off. At this speed, the fall would break his neck. "Oh, no, my friend, we're going all the way tonight." Mulder winced. Oh, God, I gotta get out of here. He tried to rub the bruise on his forehead but gave up after he almost poked an eye out. The Hessian had ridden up from behind and cold-cocked him with the hilt of his sword. "Where - ow! - are we going?" "Right to hell, my friend!" the Hessian shouted back, laughing hysterically. "No sign of him, boss, " a uniformed cop said, not looking Cyd in the eye. "Nothing at all." "He can't have just disappeared. There has to be something!" Scully frowned and stared around the field. "How far are we from where Jack Steuben died?" she asked, peering at the oak trees that towered above the field off to the left. "Uh..maybe a mile and a half, two miles. Why?" "The bridge! That's where he's taking Mulder. Come on!" she yelled as she ran back to Albert's Volkswagen. "The bridge? Why?" Cyd and Albert asked in unison. "We don't have time! He'll kill Mulder when he gets there!" Scully said, banging on the top of the Volkswagen. "Okay, okay, you heard her! Let's go!" Cyd yelled. "Come on!" "You had it all figured out, I gather! Thought you could dig up the heads and send me back to sleep!" the Hessian yelled as they raced through the woods. "Fool! I've survived better meddlers than you." Mulder, barely aware of anything except the constant bumps - how did a flying horse keep stumbling? - groaned an incoherent reply. "I'll fix it. I'll kill them all! That red-headed witch especially!" A brief paused followed. "Both of them!" Mulder snapped and planted both his fists square on the Hessian's back, sending them both tumbling off the horse. Mulder landed on his side and tried to blink away the stars that danced in front of his eyes. "You maggot! I'll burn you at Lucifer's feet myself!" the Hessian roared, staggering to his feet. "Nobody - " "Nobody move! Put down the sword!" a booming voice called out. "Put it down NOW!" Mulder's ears twitched. He knew that angelic voice. "Scully!" he yelled hoarsely, turning towards her. "Drop it!" another voice yelled. "Back away from him!" "Cyd!" Mulder grinned lopsidedly. Everybody loved him. 'Specially Scully. He squinted at the redhead - she was so far away - and tried to stand up. The effort made him even dizzier and he sat down hard. A gunshot rang out, echoing again and again in Mulder's head. That wasn't good... "Bullets won't hurt me!" the Hessian was yelling. He raised his sword in the air and took a step towards Mulder. "Now you die, maggot!" "No! Cyd - " Scully shouted, the rest of her words blurring together as Mulder rolled his eyes and fell back into a restless sleep. The last thing he saw was a blinding flash of fire. Oak Port Medical Center "Hey, partner." Mulder peeled his eyes open. "Scully...sight for sore eyes..." "Welcome back to the land of the living, Mulder, " Scully said, patting his hand. "Sleep well?" "Like a log." He sat up in the hospital bed, ignoring the protests of his spine, and accepted the glass of orange juice she offered. "Thanks. What happened?" "Scully saved your butt. As usual, from what I've heard, " Cyd said from the doorway. "Morning, Mulder." Mulder smiled at Scully. "Have you been engaging in more character assassination, Scully?" "Me?" Scully asked in a mock-innocent tone. "Never..." "Is it dead?" "Well, I don't know if you can actually kill a ghost. Destroy is a more accurate term, don't you think, Scully?" Cyd asked, grinning. Scully nodded. "Definitely. You're slipping, Mulder." "No fair ganging up on the wounded." Two redheads and a hospital bed... Mulder shook the thought away. "Is it, though?" "Thanks to Scully." "You were the one who did it." "But it was your idea, " Cyd shot back. "I wouldn't have thought of it." "Thought of WHAT?" Mulder asked, kicking the side of the bed to get attention. Cyd pulled the charred remains of a glass bottle out of her purse. "Bottled water. It worked like a charm." "Bottled water..." Mulder shook his head. "Way to go, Scully." Scully's cheeks reddened. "It wasn't exactly a well thought out plan, Mulder." "It worked, Scully. It killed - destroyed - the ghost." "MacGregor." "Huh?" "Your headless horseman was Owen MacGregor, " Scully explained. "He had a nervous breakdown and disappeared a year ago. Sorry to disappoint you, but he wasn't a ghost." Cyd coughed. "There's still the fact that his body was in an advanced state of decay. He was - well - a walking dead man." "Allegedly. It's possible that the flames from his costume gave the appearance - " "Are - are you saying Albert made a bad call?" Cyd snapped. "Why, you - " "Hey! You two, stop yelling. You're setting off sirens in my head, " Mulder muttered. "I'm sure that Albert did fine. Why don't you go check on him, Cyd. He deserves some thanks for helping out." "Oh. Oh! Right...Well, I'll..I'll just go then. See you later." Cyd slipped out the door. "Are you sure that's such a good idea, Mulder?" Scully asked, grinning. "You're joking...have you seen those two together? They're as close to being married as you can be without exchanging vows." Scully nodded, still smiling. "Sounds familiar." "More office gossip, Scully? Who is it this time? Holly and that new guy in the Violent Crimes office?" "Mulder..." "What?" Mulder asked warily as Scully leaned closer. "What am I going to do with you?" she replied softly. A half-dozen witty retorts died unspoken as Mulder looked into Scully's unreadable blue eyes. Her closeness was setting off a different kind of siren in his head. Mulder blurted out the words from his heart. "Kiss me?" Much to his surprise, she did. After a few seconds, she pulled away. "We should do that more often, " Scully whispered. "I agree.., " Mulder replied. "Beats being carried around by a headless horseman any day." "He had a head, Mulder, " Scully said, her eyebrows rising on cue. Mulder frowned stubbornly. "I liked it better when we were in the kiss and make up stage." "Oh, did you?" Scully yanked his head forward and kissed him again, longer this time, until he had to come up for air. "You like?" "Wuhh..." Mulder nodded eagerly. "I should get kidnapped by horsemen more often." "Why wait?" Scully asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Scully...you're incorrigible. I like it." "Oh, I almost forgot...I got you a present. Voila." She handed him the paper bag. Mulder dumped the contents onto his lap. "I know it's not exactly Superstars of the Superbowls, but it's all they had." "The Essential Elvis? I'll treasure it always, " Mulder said, staring at the plastic CD case. "Maybe you can come over some night and we can listen to it." "Definitely, " Scully answered, picking up his hand and placing it between her own. "Any time." Mulder's only answer was a snore. Scully sighed and put the CD on the table next to the bed so he wouldn't drop it. "G'night, Mulder, " she whispered, kissing him on the forehead. J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building "I think we should investigate joining the police, Mulder. Vacations in Malta, no bureaucratic hassles..." "What? And give up all this?" Mulder waved around the room. "Oh, of course not. How could I live without - " Scully grabbed a plush EBE doll off Mulder's desk. "Without Robbie the Reticulan?" "You'd be bored to death in a week." "Then again, we wouldn't have to pretend the rumors are all untrue...." "That would be a plus, " Mulder admitted. "No more adjoining hotel rooms." "No more creative write-offs of dinners." "No more trips to exotic towns around the country." Scully sat down at her desk and half-heartedly sorted through a stack of X-Files. "It would be hell." "Then again, vacations in Malta..." "Oh, look, it's time for lunch, " Scully said, cutting him off. Mulder grinned and grabbed his coat. "Your place or mine?" he whispered, brushing up against her in the doorway. "Yours, " Scully replied softly. "The bed is more comfortable..." "Scully, I love you." "I know." The End
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