From: Laura Herold <76021.3043@CompuServe.COM> Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New Story Repost: "Beholder" 1/2 Date: 13 Jun 1995 00:14:53 GMT New Story: "Beholder" Part 1/2 Newsgroups:alt.tv.x-files.creative THE X-FILES "Beholder" -- Part 1 by Laura Herold (76021.3043@compuserve.com) The author acknowledges all copyrights of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, 20th Century Fox Television, etc., pertaining to the characters and situations borrowed from the television series "The X-Files". The author also acknowledges all copyrights pertaining to the film character alluded to in this story. No copyright infringement is intended. Note: This story hints at romantic feelings. Beholder -- Part 1 Redstone Drive Prairieville, WI It was a dark summer night, and the street was deserted. There was no sound, no movement. In one of the houses a light shimmered, revealing a woman who stood at the window, looking out. A short distance away a gray cat moved out into the moonlight. It sat for a moment, quietly taking in its surroundings, which consisted of a house, a small lawn, and a wood fence. It groomed itself for a couple of minutes before moving over to the fence and effortlessly jumping up on top of one of the posts. The woman stood still. Looking out. The cat sat still. Looking. Its ears twitched at the sound of a door opening and closing. A second later an inhuman screech filled the air, followed closely by the sound of a woman screaming. The cat let out a howl, jumped off the fence, and ran away. FBI Headquarters Washington, DC "Tell me," Dana Scully said without looking up from the pictures that had been in the manila folder her partner had slid across his desk. They were pictures of the woman who had been looking out the window. The body was literally torn up. Fox Mulder, standing directly across from her, studied her face as she studied the pictures of the victim. "Theresa Hart, age 28," he said. "A news reporter for the local paper. The body was found at her home." Scully pointed at one of the pictures and looked up."These wounds..." Mulder interrupted, "What do you think they are, Scully?" "They look like the result of some sort of animal attack." She looked at him. "Is there a forest nearby?" Mulder shook his head. "That's what's strange. This happened in the middle of a residential district. No escapes from zoos or sightings of unusual animals in the area. The largest pet in the vicinity is a Great Dane that is tied up at night and was still there in the morning. No one saw or heard anything unusual before or after the attack." "So are there any leads?" she asked, adding sarcastically, "invisible aliens with claws, maybe?" Mulder smiled. "Maybe Freddy Krueger," he said, walking around the desk. He went past her a short distance and then turned back, the smile gone from his lips. "But this nightmare wasn't on Elm Street." Police Station Prairieville, WI Mulder held the door open for Scully as she walked into the office of Robert Maxwell, the chief of police. Maxwell, an attractive man in his early 50's, stood as Scully approached his desk. "I'm Agent Dana Scully," she said, extending her hand which Maxwell quickly grasped. She turned to Mulder. "This is Agent Fox Mulder." The two men shook hands. "Yes, yes. We spoke on the phone," Maxwell said. Mulder nodded. Scully took a seat in front of Maxwell's desk, but Mulder remained standing. Maxwell took his seat behind the desk. "I can't say I have much else to tell you. I'm not really familiar with bringing in the FBI and all..." He looked sheepishly at Scully who perhaps seemed less intimidating than Mulder. "What can you tell us about the victim?" Mulder asked, and Maxwell turned toward him reluctantly. "Terry?" he said. "She was your all-around great gal, you know?" Mulder turned his eyes heavenward, but he still felt the look Scully shot at him. "She did a pretty fair job of reporting," Maxwell continued, "and in her spare time, she volunteered her services to various charities." "Did she have any run-ins with anyone?" Scully asked. "Anyone she didn't get along with?" Maxwell shook his head. Mulder looked at him and asked, "Are you sure?" After a beat Maxwell said, "Well, I guess she had problems with Katherine McIntyre, but we all have. She's a bit weird, to tell you the truth." "In what way weird, Chief Maxwell?" Scully asked. "Bob, please, Agent Scully." As Maxwell launched into the story, Mulder moved to a chair near the back wall and sat down. Curled up on the chair next to him was a tan and white cat. Mulder looked at it and then back at Maxwell. "Well, let's see," Maxwell began. "She came to town a few years ago, I guess." He was talking directly to Scully. "Pretty lady, she got a lot of attention from the local boys." He smiled. Scully shifted in her seat. "Anyway, she didn't want anything to do with any of them. In fact, she pretty much didn't want anything to do with anyone. She's always been pretty cold and nasty to all of the local folks, and Terry was no exception. Terry tried to get her to join some of the local groups, or to do some volun teering at the humane society, but..." "She worked with animals?" Mulder said suddenly. The cat in the chair beside him stretched and sat up. He looked at it as it sized him up. "Yeah," Maxwell said. "That was one of her pet projects. She took care of the strays over at the local humane society." "What does that have to do with Katherine McIntyre?" Scully asked, looking at Maxwell but thinking of Mulder. In the back of the room the cat completed its assessment of Mulder, stood up, and walked onto his lap. Mulder picked it up and gently set it down on the floor. With a backward glance the cat headed out of the room. "Well," Maxwell said, "this one time there was something of a screaming match over at the old Eagle's grocery store, and the owner called here to get some help handling the ruckus. Seems Terry was handing out fliers about the humane society, and Ms. McIntyre grabbed the lot of them and tore them to pieces before stalking off. Terry wasn't too confrontational, but she wasn't about to take that lying down, you know?" Scully nodded. "Anyway, she takes off after Ms. McIntyre, and before anyone knew it the two were hashing it out at the tops of their lungs. Seems that Ms. McIntyre is one of those kooks who doesn't think animals should be penned up or even kept as pets." Mulder stood. "I think we should go and take a look at the crime scene," he said. Scully stood, followed by Maxwell. "Nice meeting you, Agent Scully," he said. "Agent Mulder," he added. "Thanks for your time," Mulder said, heading out the door. Outside the police station, as they headed to the car, Mulder looked at Scully, a grin playing on his lips. "What?" she asked, pulling up short. Mulder stopped as well. "I was surprised he didn't ask you out to dinner," Mulder replied. "Excuse me?" Scully said quickly. "A person would have to be blind to miss his coming on to you," Mulder said. "Well, it may come as a shock," Scully said, "but some men do find me attractive." Mulder began walking again, and a second later Scully did the same. At the car he said, "I suppose that old saying is true," as he slid inside. Scully didn't look at him as she opened the door and got into car. Finally she said, "What old saying is that?" Mulder pulled the car out of the space and headed toward the home of the late Theresa Hart. "There's no accounting for taste," he said. Night's Inn In Scully's room Mulder was standing at the window looking out, trying to get an idea, a brainstorm. It wasn't working. His thoughts kept slipping out of focus, and all he could think about was how tired he was. Maybe it was time to take a vacation. Scully was sitting in a nearby chair writing down notes about the trip to the crime scene and their plans for the next day. She stopped writing and looked at her notes. The trip to Hart's house hadn't been too productive. The body had been found by the door, and Mulder's intuition had told him that she probably knew her assailant. Scully had determined the same thing from the lack of signs of struggle or forced entry. They had talked to some of the neighbors, but no one had seen or heard anything that see med to be of use. They had decided to get hotel rooms and try again in the morning. Scully looked at Mulder. "You know," she said, "in that sideshow case you missed out on an interesting conversation I had with Dr. Blockhead." Mulder didn't look at her. "Blockhead?" he said absently. Scully sighed. "The guy who hammered the nail into his nose?" she said. Mulder glanced at her before turning back to the window. "Yeah. What was that?" Scully smirked. "Well he said in the future freaks are going to be eliminated. He lamented that everyone was going to windup like you." Mulder looked at her and said nothing. She had intended it as a joke, as payback for his earlier jibe about her, but when she saw the sad, serious look in his eyes she regretted it. For several seconds neither of them spoke. The air between them was charged, alive. It was a moment of possibility. Scully felt uncomfortable and unsure. Mulder allowed himself to think: Maybe. "Scully," he said. She stood up suddenly and headed to the bathroom. Mulder's eyes followed her, but he didn't continue speaking. He heard the sound of water running from the tap into the sink. "We should both get some sleep," Scully said, hoping the water would mask the waver in her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow." Mulder stood staring in the direction of the bathroom for a few seconds and then left the room. In his room, Mulder lay on his bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling. He was being haunted by a voice from the past, a voice he heard often in his mind saying a statement he heard often as well. "It's your job to protect her, Fox," his mother's voice said. She had been talking about Mulder's sister, Samantha. But when it had really been important, when it had really mattered, he had been unable to protect her. Now it was his job to protect Scully. He wasn't about to let worthless things like his own feelings get in the way of that. In her room, Scully was tossing and turning in bed. She tried to use the time to think about the case, but other thoughts kept creeping in, thoughts about Mulder, thoughts that began: What if... Mulder couldn't sleep. He finally got up from the bed and went over to the door. It was possible that a walk around the hotel would clear his mind, he thought. It was also possible that a walk straight to the hotel bar would help him get to sleep. Mulder wasn't a drinker, but he knew that there was probably a time and a place for a little alcohol. It was a weeknight and the bar was deserted. Some 80's rock was playing on a corner juke box. Mulder sat on a stool, rested his elbows on the bar and rested his head in his hands. "What'll it be?" a male voice asked. Mulder looked up at the bartender, a grungy-looking man in his late 30's or early 40's. He thought for a moment and then sighed. "Scotch," he said, quickly adding, "on the rocks." Mulder felt someone take a stool to his left. He looked over. It was a young woman, younger than him, anyway. She had long black hair and a svelte figure. The bartender set down Mulder's drink. Mulder just looked at it. The bartender moved on to the woman. "The usual?" he asked. "Yes," the woman answered. Mulder stared at his drink. Finally he put his hand out, grabbed the glass, and rattled the ice. He looked over at the woman next to him again. She had taken out a book. He was surprised to see that there was a picture of a UFO on the back cover. The bartender set down her drink and moved away. The glass was filled with a smoky white liquid. She looked over at Mulder, and he quickly looked away. A few seconds passed. Mulder let go of his drink and figured he should just leave and get some sleep. He was starting to feel tired again, exhaustion was sweeping over him. "Are you a believer?" the woman next to him asked suddenly in a low, husky voice. Mulder looked over at her and was struck by the intensity of her liquid green eyes. "I'm sorry, what?" he said. She closed the book and showed him the cover. There were pictures of UFO's, aliens, etc. The title was *They Are Out There*. "Do you believe in aliens?" she asked. Mulder was somewhat off balance, and he didn't like the feeling. He smiled and tried to look casual. "I like to keep an open mind," he said. "I see," she said, taking a sip of her drink and reopening the book. Mulder picked up his own drink and took a slug. "My name is Katherine McIntyre," she said, turning toward him and extending her hand. For a beat he stared at her, but he quickly recovered and took her hand. "I'm..." "Special Agent Fox Mulder," she finished. "Right. How did you know that?" Mulder said. "I have my sources," McIntyre said standing up. "Come by tomorrow. I'm usually up early." She tucked the book under her arm. "Chief Maxwell will be happy to give you my address," she added as she headed out the door. Mulder finished his drink and went back to his room. Scully sat in a chair in her room, paging through her notes. She looked over at the clock. 7:13 am. She had been up for a little over an hour, and though she knew it was early she was ready to get the day started. She stood up, stretched, and took out her cellular phone. She wondered briefly if Mulder would be awake yet, but she knew he wasn't the type who got a lot of sleep. Ever. "Mulder," came the familiar answer. "It's me," Scully said. "Can you meet me at the hotel's coffee shop in a little while?" "I'm in the lobby now," Mulder replied. "I'll get a table." Scully shut off the phone and tossed it on the bed. She went into the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment, trying to imagine what Maxwell had seen when he had been basically leering at her across his desk. She blocked from her consciousness that other question that was forming, the one about what Mulder saw when he looked at her. She didn't want to ask or answer that question. She knew that in every sense he saw too much. "He's just my partner," she said out loud, but the eyes in the mirror looked back at her mockingly, disbelievingly, as if catching her in a lie. She turned away quickly and shut off the light. "I'm sorry I was so abrupt last night," Scully said after she had seated herself across from Mulder at the small coffee shop table. Mulder set down his coffee mug. "Forget about it," he said. "I think we were both just worn out." Scully nodded. The waiter came, and they ordered. "I had some luck last night," Mulder said after the waiter left. When Scully looked at him strangely, he smiled and shook his head. "No, no. I met Katherine McIntyre." "What?" Scully said. "Where?" "Here, at the hotel bar," he said. "She knew my name," he added. "I think she was looking for me. She invited me over to her house today." Scully was mulling this over when Mulder's phone rang. "Mulder," he said. "I think we've got another one," Maxwell said. "Seems like the same MO." "When?" Mulder asked. "Looks like some time this morning. We won't have anything more definite until after the coroner gets a look at him." "Him?" "Yeah, this one's Tom Eisner, the guy who ran the local humane society. That's where this happened." "Where is it?" "26 Birch. My car's out front." "OK. Where can I find Katherine McIntyre?" "Probably 624 River Road, that's her place." "Thanks." Mulder shut off the phone, shoved it in a jacket pocket, and took out his wallet. "Mulder, what's going on?" Scully asked. Mulder took out some bills. "Maxwell's got another one over at the humane society," he said. "I thought I'd go over to see McIntyre if you can handle Maxwell." "I'll handle him," Scully said standing up. The waiter arrived with the food. "Sorry," Mulder said. "Money's on the table." Humane Society A short while later Mulder dropped Scully off at the humane society. This time there were signs of damage at the crime scene, including broken windows and papers and cages strewn all around the place. And there were animals roaming around all over too, with people chasing after them. As she walked toward the building Scully narrowly missed tripping over a calico cat. "Hey, there," she said, crouching down. The cat accepted the attention but bolted when it saw Maxwell heading over. Scully knew how it felt. "Agent Scully," Maxwell said through a broad grin. "Chief Maxwell," Scully replied. "Where's the body?" "Bob, please," Maxwell said. "Now I don't know if you'll want to see the body Ms. Scully," he continued in a slightly patronizing tone. "It's in pretty bad shape." "It's Agent Scully," she said, trying to sound firm, but not bitchy. "And I'm a medical doctor who specializes in forensic pathology. I'm certain it's nothing I haven't seen." Maxwell shrugged. "This way then." Scully followed him. McIntyre House Mulder pulled up to Katherine McIntyre's house. It was a nice-looking ranch-style home with a huge front yard. McIntyre was in the yard watering flowers, her back to Mulder. Mulder got out of the car and went over to her. "Ms. McIntyre?" he said. She turned to face him and smiled. "Agent Mulder," she said. "How nice to see you again." She was wearing a very tight, very short black dress. "Could we go inside?" Mulder asked. "Certainly," she replied, leading the way. Inside she said, "I'm afraid I don't have any refreshments." "I just came from breakfast," Mulder said, thinking of his cup of coffee. McIntyre sat on a sofa with her long legs curled beneath her. Mulder took a chair opposite her. "How can I help you?" she asked. "How did you know who I was last night?" he asked. "Why?" she said with a smile. "Were you someone other than who you usually are?" Mulder understood why Maxwell thought she was weird. "How did you know my name, Ms. McIntyre?" he said, trying again. "Please call me Kate," she said, adding, "may I call you Fox?" "I'd prefer we kept this on a professional level," Mulder said. "That's a shame," she said. "All those useless extra words. And besides," that smile again, "few men could pull that name off, but you definitely can." Mulder ignored the come-on. "You didn't answer my question," he said. "I know that, Agent Mulder," she replied. Behind her, Mulder's eye fell on a bookcase full of titles concerned with aliens and UFO's. "What do you do?" he asked. "In what context, Agent Mulder?" He looked at her. "For work," he said. She stretched her legs out and met his gaze dead on. "I thought you came here to question me about the murders," she said. "Murders?" "Yes, I heard about Tom Eisner," she said without showing a hint of sadness. "What do you know about the murders?" Mulder asked. "I know who did them," she said softly, never moving her eyes from his. Mulder felt a presence behind him, but when he turned to look there was nothing there but a simple gray cat. The cat turned and left the room. When he turned back McIntyre was gone. Mulder got up and searched the rooms of the house. He couldn't find her. He went to the bookcase and looked more closely at the titles. *Aliens Among Us*. *Take Us to Your Leader*. *Little Green Men*. *We Are NOT Alone*. "What is this?" Mulder said aloud. He had a strange feeling like the world was at a canted angle and he was about to fall off. Then he saw the picture on top of the bookcase, a picture that shouldn't have been there, a picture that couldn't have been there. An icicle slid through his heart. Mulder ran out of the house to the car. =========================================================================== From: Laura Herold <76021.3043@CompuServe.COM> Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New Story Repost: "Beholder" 2/2 Date: 13 Jun 1995 00:17:50 GMT New Story: "Beholder" Part 2/2 Newsgroups:alt.tv.x-files.creative THE X-FILES "Beholder" -- Part 2 by Laura Herold (76021.3043@compuserve.com) For acknowledgements and note see Part 1. Beholder -- Part 2 Night's Inn Prairieville, WI In Scully's room that night Mulder was pacing back and forth furiously. "What *is* this, Scully?" he asked suddenly. Scully was sitting in a chair and just staring at him. "Slow down, Mulder," she said. "This still isn't making any sense to me." "It doesn't *make* sense," Mulder said slowing his pace a little bit. Scully tried to grasp onto part of the story he had told her. "People don't just disappear, Mulder," she said. He looked at her desperately, and Scully was deeply worried that he would come unhinged. "Maybe's she's not a person," he said. "What does *that* mean?" Scully asked. "Maybe she's not human," Mulder said. Scully stood up. She walked over to him and grabbed his arm to make him stop pacing. "Mulder, sit down," she said firmly. He looked at her for a few seconds, saw she wasn't going to back down, and slumped into a chair. "That picture, Scully," he said. "Not yet," Scully said. She looked at him. He looked terrible. "One thing at a time," she said. She sighed and sat down. "What evidence do you have? A bookcase full of books on aliens and the fact that she was gone when you turned back? Mulder, a lot of people read books about aliens. And you were in her house. She could have slipped away to somewhere you couldn't find her. What do you have?" "You weren't there, Scully. It was a feeling..." "That's not good enough," Scully said. Mulder glared at her. "You, yourself, mentioned an invisible alien with claws." "Mulder, that was a joke! You know that was a joke," she said, trying to make eye contact, but he looked away. "So what should I do now, Mulder, look for a guy in a red and black sweater wearing a glove with metal blades, because you mentioned Freddy Krueger?" He didn't look at her. "I don't know, Scully," he said. "I don't know." "OK," she said. She didn't want to go on, but she knew this thing had to be dealt with. She knew, too, that she was going to have to tread softly and build slowly. "Now, she had you off-kilter with what she was saying, how she was acting, right?" "Scully..." "Right?" "Right," he said reluctantly. "And then you think there's someone behind you, but there isn't." "Right." "And then she disappears." "Right." "So you were confused?" Mulder was silent for a moment. He knew where this was headed. "Don't do this, Scully," he said. She heard the pain in his voice. It was so deep that it was almost too much for her to go past. "Were you confused, Mulder?" she asked finally, hoping she was doing the right thing. "I know what I saw," he said. "What you think you saw," Scully said. "You were off balance and confused. We both know that. You looked at something, and you thought it was something else, Mulder. Maybe it was similar, the..." Mulder vaulted out of his chair and slammed his fist hard into the windowsill. "No!" he shouted, his back to Scully. "Mulder," Scully said as calmly as she could. "No, Scully, not this time," he said. "Mulder, children can look similar sometimes..." "No. It was Samantha and me, Scully. I know it in my blood." He turned to face her, and his eyes were red, watery. She stood up. "I remember when that picture was taken, Scully. We were on vacation in New York, and Sam was in wonder of all the tall buildings. She insisted that we go to the top of the Empire State Building," his voice was shaking now, but he couldn't stop. "I remember that picture being in our house, Scully. It was on *our* bookcase." She walked over to him and took him in her arms. His whole body shook against hers. "It was us, Scully," he said softly near her ear. "It was her and me," he said. "It's OK," she said, even though she knew it wasn't. "I believe you," she said, and she did. They just stood there together for some time. Scully was thinking: Why did any of this have to happen? Mulder was feeling too much to think at all. Finally, he pulled away. "I should go," he said. "You shouldn't be alone, Mulder," Scully said. "I can't stay here," Mulder said, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I'll be OK." She looked in his eyes, and she wasn't convinced, not by a long shot. "Please Mulder, please stay," she said. "For me." He stood there looking at her, and once again he knew she wasn't going to back down. "OK," he said. "Alright, I'll stay." "Good," she said, taking a step away from him. "I was starting to think maybe it is Freddy Krueger, and I wanted somebody to be here in case I had a nightmare." Mulder smiled. He knew what she was saying. He went over to the sofa and laid down. "You could at least take off your jacket and tie," Scully said. He did and laid back down. She sat on the bed. "There's an explanation for this, Mulder," she said. "I believe you, but there has to be an explanation." There were a few seconds of silence. "Scully, come here," Mulder said softly. Scully got up and walked over to him. He took her hand in his. "Thank you," he said. She kneeled down next to him and brushed her free hand through his hair. "You're welcome," she said. "Sweet dreams." She let go of his hand gently and walked back to the bed. That night Mulder had The Nightmare again, the one where Samantha was being abducted and he was frozen, unable to help. But this time something was different. This time the agony he expected was mixed with something new, something that felt suspiciously like--hope. And there was a voice there, a voice that had never been there before, but it was right that it was there. It belonged. "It's OK," the voice said. "I believe you." Mulder woke up. At first he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened. He sat up and looked over at Scully who was sound asleep wrapped up in the bed's blankets. Then he remembered. He remembered it all, and he smiled. He picked up his jacket and tie and silently left the room. Scully was in the shower at 7:35 am. Her eyes were closed, and she just let the hot water pour over her. She hadn't been surprised to see that Mulder was already gone. She just hoped he was OK. She already felt distanced from the events of the night before, like it had all been a dream or had happened a week ago. But there was a persistent tickle in her brain that wanted answers. Nothing's changed, she told it. It was a moment in time, a friend being there for a friend. The tickle responded: But the sound of his voice when he said, "Come here, Scully." The look in his eyes when he took your hand. Scully got out of the shower and vigorously rubbed her hair with a towel. She was letting her imagination get away from her, she thought, and this was the wrong time for that. This case was the most important thing, especially now that it was personal. She wrapped herself in one of the hotel's white towels and sat down on the lid of the toilet. She thought about the second crime scene, the very savagery of it. There had been blood spattered all over the walls, and the body had been ravaged so badly that it was barely recognizable as human. Maxwell had been right in a way: She hadn't really wanted to see that. But not for the reasons he had thought; rather because she knew that violence that intense required a certain level of madness that shook her to her core. And then she had met Mulder for dinner and heard his story. But what was the connection between the picture he saw and the murders? What happened to McIntyre? Mulder had summed the situation up in three words: What *is* this? Last night she had said a feeling wasn't good enough, but she knew Mulder's instincts were good; she knew his intuition was solid and trustworthy. Sometimes he didn't seem to be able to explain what he felt logically, she thought, but that didn't make him wrong. What troubled Scully most of all was the meeting Mulder had with McIntyre in the hotel bar. "I think she was looking for me," he had said. Not us, "me." And the books on aliens. And the picture. Too many coincidences. Just who the hell *is* Katherine McIntyre? Scully thought. There was a knock at the door. "Just a minute," Scully called. She threw on some clothes and went over to open the door. It wasn't Mulder. "You look like you picked the wrong door," Katherine McIntyre said. "Excuse me?" "The lady or the tiger," McIntyre said with a smile. "You look like you picked the wrong one." "Which one did I get?" Scully asked coolly. The smile faded from McIntyre's face. "I'm Katherine McIntyre. I'm looking for Agent Mulder," she said. "I thought you might..." Scully pushed past her into the hallway and shut the door behind her. "Ms. McIntyre, I know full well who you are, but I want you to be clear about who I am. I am Special Agent Dana Scully, Agent Mulder's partner, and whatever you have to say about this case, you can say it to me." "I don't think so," McIntyre said smugly. Scully wasn't about to play games with this woman. "You told Mulder you know who the killer is. Is that true?" "Yes, I told him that." "Who is it?" "Agent Scully, I came here to speak with Agent Mulder..." "I'm putting you under arrest," Scully said, grabbing McIntyre's arm. McIntyre moved quickly, pressing Scully tightly against the door. "You don't know what you're dealing with," she growled. "Tell me then," Scully said. "I'll do better than that," McIntyre said. What happened next Scully wouldn't have believed from Mulder if he had sworn an oath in blood. One second McIntyre was standing there; the next second there was a black panther; the next a black cat that grabbed hold of the tiny dress McIntyre had been wearing in its teeth and bolted down the hall. Scully ran after it, but it was quickly out of sight. Back in her room her phone was ringing. "Scully," she said, out of breath. "What's going on?" Mulder asked. "Where are you?" "I went for a walk. I'm about a block from the hotel. Scully, what..." "Meet me in the lobby," Scully said. She shut off the phone, grabbed her gun, and ran out of the room. Mulder wondered what was going on now. Then he saw Katherine McIntyre walk out of the hotel. He stopped and watched as she headed over. She walked up very close to him and then took a few steps past him before stopping. Mulder turned to face her. "Agent Mulder," McIntyre said coyly. "We didn't get to finish our conversation." When Scully didn't see Mulder in the lobby she continued running out of the hotel. To the right she spotted them, a short distance away. She held out her gun, pointed it at McIntyre, and shouted, "You're under arrest. Don't move." Mulder didn't turn. He just pulled his handcuffs out of his pocket and took a step toward McIntyre. She took a step back. "I won't go to jail, Agent Mulder," she said. Scully was walking up quickly behind Mulder. Her gun was on McIntyre, pointed low. "Don't move," she said. "Don't do anything." McIntyre stood staring at Mulder. "I have things to tell you," she said, "but I won't be put in a cage." Scully was at Mulder's side, moving in on McIntyre. "I can tell you about Samantha," McIntyre said, taking another step back. "Scully, stop," Mulder said. "Don't listen to her, Mulder," Scully said, as she kept moving closer. "We can talk to her later, at the station." "There is no later, Fox," McIntyre said bewitchingly. "Scully, stop," Mulder repeated. Scully froze, her gun still on McIntyre. "You don't know what she has to say, Mulder," Scully said. "And whatever it is, you won't ever know if it's true. But she is probably the one who killed those two people. If she isn't she knows who did." "Three people," Mulder said. "I was calling you about the one they found this morning, the guy who owned the grocery store." "We have to take her in, Mulder," Scully said. "Forget this, Fox," McIntyre said. "These people were nothing: A game, that's all, a way to get your attention. A woman who would open the door to any stray? A man who put animals in cages? A man who let their propaganda be distributed at his store? What are those three people to you?" McIntyre grinned widely, and Scully could see the savage madness inside of her. "I can tell you about your own flesh and blood, Fox," she said, adding almost mockingly, "I've seen her." "Put away the gun, Scully," Mulder said. "Mulder," Scully said. "I have to know, Scully," he said. "I have to know the truth." Scully put her gun away. She tried one more time. "She's asking you to condone three murders, Mulder," she said. "Are you willing to sacrifice that truth? Are you sure what she has is worth that?" "Fox," McIntyre said. "The night they took her she was wearing a bracelet you had given her." She reached into a pocket of her dress. "Keep your hands in the open," Scully said. She walked over to McIntyre, intending to get what was in that pocket herself. In that split second Mulder caught a glimpse of the dark car with the dark windows, and he saw the window going down. Then he was moving, throwing himself and Scully to the ground. He listened to the sound of the bullets, but he didn't move for several seconds even after the sound stopped, despite the burning pain of the bullet that had burrowed into his arm. He helped Scully up and then walked over to where McIntyre was sprawled on the ground a few feet away. He kneeled down next to her and checked for a pulse, but he knew she was dead. He reached into her pocket, and his fingers found the small pieces of metal. He sighed and pulled the bracelet out into the sunlight. It looked just as he remembered it, gold with tiny sun, moon, and star charms. It was so small. He didn't remember it being so small. He turned it so he could read what had been engraved: "Sam, Love Fox." He closed his hand around the bracelet, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. Behind him Scully just stood there, unsure of what to do or say. "I'm so sorry, Mulder," she said gently. "Are you OK?" he asked, his voice sounding empty and distant. "I'm fine," she said, "but you're hit. You should go to a hospital." "I know," he said softly, sounding as if it took too much strength to say the words. He didn't move. "Just give me a minute, Scully, OK? Just a minute." Scully didn't say anything. She just looked from Mulder to the body of the black cat that laid on a dress stained with blood.