The IM's Final Repose Title: The IM Files #19 The Invisible Man's Final Repose Author: Shinkai E-mail Address: shinkai@mlode.com Rating: R Classification: SR Spoilers: Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose Keywords: Scully/Mulder romance, alternate reality Summary: A trail of murdered fortune tellers lead Mulder and Scully to a reluctant psychic whose only gift is the ability to see how others will die. His odd reflections on death help them find meaning in their own lives, and question the nature of coincidences. 19th installment in the IM Series. Intro: To understand the Mulder and Scully in this story, you must have read "Meeting the Invisible Man" and know some of history the IM Files series. This story is just an expanded version of the original with points relating to their IM Files romance. Thanks all those who have encouraged the continuation of this series. Disclaimer: The characters and situations depicted in this story are not the legal property of the author or her agents. This use is not intended to be an infringement on the rights of the legal owners. Use and distribution of this story is for not-for-profit entertainment purposes only __________________________________ THE INVISIBLE MAN'S FINAL REPOSE Mulder and Scully had allowed their lives to fall into an uneasy routine. After his remarkable 'return from the dead' in New Mexico, Mulder had finally moved back in with Scully in her apartment but there was an unmistakable tension between them. Working together usually provided them with moments of frankness and sharing, as the focus on the X-Files insulated them from the intense personal feelings towards one another. But once they came home to their private life, the walls came up and they hardly spoke. Perhaps the saddest part of the emotional stalemate was that they did it to try to protect each other. Scully harbored feeling of guilt over Melissa's death and resented Mulder for putting her at risk. Mulder felt a sense of betrayal from Scully because she refused to believe the 'Truth' about alien-human hybrids revealed by the WMM. But both Mulder and Scully feared their negative feelings might eclipse their mutual love and devotion, and ultimately drive them apart. Unable to bear the thought of another separation, they allowed themselves to become divorced from their emotions when the safe haven of the office was left behind for the day. Despite this disquieting state of affairs, Mulder and Scully managed to find expression for their love in the most unlikely places, specifically the strange case involving an even stranger insurance salesman named Clyde Bruckman... ________________________ Scully sat silently besides Mulder as they drove from the Minneapolis airport. The last time she made this drive, she was forced off the road by Donnie Pfaster and kidnapped. She had no desire to relive any part of that terrifying evening but when they received the call from Agent Moe Bocks for their help, it was hard to say no. Agents Bocks was one of the few agents in the FBI who respected Mulder's work on the X-File as well as his talents as a profiler. And this particular case seemed custom made for the FBI's spookiest agent. Mulder knew that Scully had been reluctant to join him on this case. He practically had to beg her to come with him. If nothing else, he argued, it got them away from the pressure of the constant scrutiny from Skinner and others in Washington DC. Now that they were alone, he hoped to find some common ground that would open up their home life again. Mulder cleared his throat and tried to start a normal conversation. Normal, that is, for two FBI agents. "Agent Bocks said he's sorry he won't be able to work with us on this one. He's tied up with a narcotics operation and since this falls under the PD's jurisdiction..." Scully didn't even turn to look at him. "He also said to tell you he doesn't think it's aliens this time. And he promised the next time he invites us over, he'll show us the nice neighborhoods in town." Scully smiled half-heartedly and replied "I'd settle for having bodies that aren't mutilated. What is it this time? Eyeballs and entrails?" Mulder took any response as a good sign. "Well, technically speaking, there is no body. Just eyeballs and entrails." "Great. The autopsy should go quickly." she replied bluntly then returned to her silent stare out the window. "Huh...was there anything else you wanted to add to the profile I worked up for this case?" Mulder asked cautiously trying to engage her in some semblance of conversation. "Not before we see the physical evidence." she answered automatically. Suddenly she perked up and gazed at Mulder with sincere admiration. "Your profile really is excellent, Mulder. I don't know how you do it sometimes." Mulder grinned self consciously and reached over to take her hand. "I couldn't do it without you." "You mean without me questioning your ideas." Scully said as her mood slowly improved. "Even back at Oxford, you deliberately started arguments with me to goad me into tearing your thesis apart." "I got my PhD so it must have worked." Mulder replied as kissed her hand. "So tell me... was there ever a time in your life you relied on intuition instead of logic?" "Maybe when I was four years old..." She sighed heavily and added softly, "And when I fell in love with you then stayed with you even when it seemed the marriage wouldn't work out." She paused thoughtfully considering their current situation. "You mean...like now?" he added pensively. Mulder could practically read her mind. "I know our marriage is...having some rough moments these days. So, do you still trust your instincts?" She leaned over and kissed him then whispered "I trust you." Then she settled back into her seat and teased "Besides, I think my instincts are just the subconscious manifestation of the logical conclusions I haven't been able to access through my conscious mind." Mulder flashed his unforgettable smile at her. "There's hope for you yet, Mrs. Spooky." _________________________________ When Mulder and Scully arrived at the FBI field office, Agent Bocks greeted them quickly as he headed out the door. "This messy narcotics case has had me tied up for weeks. What I wouldn't give for a health dose of weirdo central. Anyway...when the PD made their usual call to me on this one, my boss said 'no way.' So I figured you were the man to bring in. You and Agent Scully...she's got the best forensic sense I've ever seen. You two make a great team...he gets in the bad guy's head to figure out where he's going, she picks up the pieces to track him from behind. Happy hunting... And stick together this time, Ok?" With that, the agent ran out the door, leaving Mulder and Scully smiling at his parting remarks. Even Agent Moe Bocks knew they belonged together. Just then, the PD called about a new murder victim and the supervising agent handed Mulder the information. He told him that the detective in charge, Detective Cline, was on route to the scene already. It was obvious the supervisor wasn't a fan of the X-Files like Bocks when he told Mulder it wasn't necessary to check in until they were ready to leave town. Scully frowned at Mulder as she read the location of the crime scene. "As usual, our reputation precedes us." He just shrugged as he ushered her back out to the car. "Who wants to answer to a bunch of bureaucrats anyway. Now we can do our work without their inference." "That's what I'm afraid of." sighed his partner. _______________________________ As it turned out, their reputation wasn't as well known as Scully thought. When they arrived at the scene, no one seemed to care that they were there. Detective Cline and his partner, Havez, greeted them coldly but allowed them into the room. When Havez suggested the killers might be Satanists, Mulder jumped into his field of expertise. "Satanists take the eyeballs and leave the body, not vice-versa. Not in anything but modern myths." Mulder commented as he slipped on the latex glove and inspected the remains. Scully informed Cline that they had already worked up a profile based on the evidence and behavior of the killer so far. Cline seemed unimpressed and asked snidely if it explained why the entrails were removed. To his surprise, Mulder had an answer. "Anthropomancy. It was once believed that you could divine your future by vivisecting a human being and studying the entrails." The connection seemed obvious to Mulder since all the victims were fortune tellers. Cline sneered again. "'Til this one. She was a professional doll collector." He remarked, looking at the room full of porcelain dolls. Mulder looked around and room and quickly added, "And an amateur tasseographer. She read tea leaves." He moved to the table and studied the empty tea cups. "After drinking the tea, you can gain insight into your future by examining the pattern of the leaves on the bottom of the cup." "You believe in this stuff?" Cline asked doubtfully. Mulder pursed his lips answered. "I'm not convinced of its accuracy but I'm pretty sure the victim was. Her leaves were telling her she was about to be murdered." Cline and Havez rolled their eyes as Scully tried to shrink into the background. She thought to herself Imagine her surprise when she discovered that Cline had called in a profession psychic to bring some insight into the case. With all the flair of a rock-and-roll star, the Stupendous Yappi arrived at the crime scene. Between smiling for the camera and signing autographs, Yappi approached the detectives. Mulder and Scully were forgotten in the PD's rush to greet the famous prognosticator. Scully remained stoned face and Mulder watched critically as Yappi dramatically swept through the room. Yappi announced that the killer did not feel in control of his life and then announced that the killer was a white man with facial hair, who might have a tattoo. Or not. Or perhaps the tattoo had hair. Mulder rolled his eyes at the obviously nondescript description. He wondered if that's what he sounded like to other people. He made a mental note to watch for that in the future. Scully caught Mulder's reaction from the corner of her eye and smiled back at him as if to say 'now you know how I feel most of the time.' As she turned back towards Yappi, the psychic arched his eye brow and winked at her. Mulder's good humor instantly reverted to a guarded jealousy as his male ego ignored the fact that Scully despised the huckster. Yappi continued to babble about the killer trying to rape the victim. According to the psychic, the attacker was unable to 'perform', so he violently disemboweled her instead. Suddenly Yappi broke off his 'vision', complaining that someone was giving off 'negative energy.' Yappi stared accusingly into the eyes of the detectives, then into Scully's. He winked at her again and she was about to tell him just how negative she was, when he turned to Mulder and demanded "Please leave the room. You give off negative energy." Mulder complained that he was part of the investigation and insisted he believed in psychic phenomena but Yappi turned away. Cline shrugged and signaled Mulder to leave the room. Mulder grumped as Scully teasingly whispered "I can't take you anywhere." Mulder watched Yappi eyeing Scully and replied seriously "I could say the same thing about you." Mulder's eyes stayed on Yappi until the door was closed between them. Mulder stood in the hallway impatiently waiting for the 'investigation' to finish. He studied the young 'groupies' waiting for their idol to reappear and he pondered what the attraction was. Fame? Money? Or was it the mystery? It certainly wasn't the man. Yappi wasn't any great specimen of manhood but he did have a flair for the dramatic. Mulder fumed over how dramatic Yappi had been with Scully. If he raised his eye brow and winked at her one more time, Mulder was ready to punch him hard enough that he wouldn't wink again for days. All at once Mulder noticed one of the younger girls scrutinizing him. He shifted nervously as she approached. When she asked why he didn't stay to watch Yappi perform, Mulder sarcastically told her "I'm projecting negative energy." The girl smiled and ran a pointed finger down his chest, propositioning him in a sweet voice. "Maybe you just need a little attitude adjustment. A quick infusion of positive energy." Mulder smiled politely and pushed her back gently. "Sorry, I don't do 'quickie' infusions. And I like my attitude just fine without adjustments, thank you." The girl pouted then said, "If you change your mind, you can find us here... My name is Jasmine." and handed Mulder a business card for Yappi's 'True Believer's Club.' She smiled at him then returned to the group as Mulder let out a long sigh then looked around to see if anyone else noticed him tucking the card into his pocket. Just then he heard a muffled applause from the closed room then Yappi stepped out, bowed to group and joined his entourage. Mulder glared at the psychic aggressively, projecting as much negative energy as possible. Yappi paused then turned to glare back at Mulder. He did a quick take to Jasmine then turned back to the agent and sneered, "Skeptics and hypocrites like you make me sick." Mulder tighten his fist but opted for another form of attack. "Mr. Yappi, read this." And Mulder proceeded to focus his thoughts on what a complete asshole and charlatan the famed psychic was. Yappi looked shocked by his thoughts and arched an eyebrow and said "So's your old man." Then he stomped away with his minions. Mulder rolled is eyes and replied under his breath, "Oh yeah, that's original. What's your next comeback 'sez you'?" Yappi stopped in his tracks and rush back to face Mulder. Scully was just coming out of the room as the psychic challenged Mulder with a 'psychic reading'. "Your impotence makes you bitter. You are frustrated that you attract women but cannot please them. You manifest your anger at other men you cannot hope to compete with..." He halted, with both eyebrows raised, as he saw Mulder draw back his arm to punch him. But before Mulder could land a blow, Scully took his arm and eased it back down to his side. Yappi huffed and said "Lucky for you. Or I would have to defend myself with a mind attack. You might never recover." Scully glared at the psychic and said "Then defend yourself from this thought." She projected the mental equivalent of kicking him in the balls and throwing his body out the window. Yappi smiled and arched his eyebrow again as he pretended she was coming on to him and said "Maybe later. For now, I'm overdue for an interview." He quick walked away before anyone could respond. Mulder grumbled "You've over due to have your ass sued for fraud. Or at least over acting." Scully reassured Mulder sweetly in a voice loud enough for Yappi to hear. "It's OK. I know you're not impotent, not after last night." Mulder took the hint and kissed her passionately as Yappi left in a huff. Once he was gone, Scully broke into a smile. "I was about to tell you about the great performance you missed in there but apparently you had your own show out here." Mulder nodded as he followed her back into the room. "Just call me a method actor." Cline seemed more impressed by Yappi's talent then Scully. He showed off a pen bent in half, apparently by Yappi's psychic powers. Mulder responded dryly giving examples of the vague descriptions Yappi probably gave regarding the crime that the body was near water, that the number 7 or the letter S was involved, that a school or church was nearby. Cline shifted as if Mulder seemed psychic as well. But Mulder quickly pointed out that the very vagueness of the descriptions made them useless but could be interpreted as correct in retrospect. He pointed out that Yappi probably said so many things about the suspect, statistically some would be correct, although most would be completely wrong. Cline frowned and picked up the folder with Mulder's profile. "So what the difference between his vague visions and your suspect profile?" Mulder became immediately defensive. "I'm not just trying to hit the percentages. That profile is based on an intense study of the possible psychological motives for the actions taken by the killer evidenced at the scene of the crime. It's based not only on the statistical analysis of data but the extrapolation of eight years of field experience regarding the investigation of serial killers." Cline looked blankly at Mulder. "In other words, you're just making a guess." Scully jumped in immediately. "A very good guess. If you care to check Agent Mulder's track record, you'll find his guesses to be more helpful in the capture of dangerous criminals than any other profiler in the FBI. These profiles provide us with a jump ahead of the tedious reconstruction of the crime we're restricted to using only forensic techniques." Cline stuffed the profile in a folder with other disarranged notes and replied, "Look, all I know is that so far, Yappi has provided more solid, concrete leads on this case than you have. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get an APB out on a white male, age seventeen to thirty-four, with or without a beard, maybe a tattoo... who's impotent. Let's go." Mulder leaned into Scully and said sarcastically, "We might as well go home. This case is as good as solved." Scully sighed and retorted, "Well, at least you're not a suspect, despite Mr. Yappi's opinion about your male competency." As he led her away from the scene, Mulder began to ramble. "How about this...what if Yappi is the one who's impotent. Not just sexually but as a psychic. In a jealous and frustrated rage, he begins to systematically kill off fortune tellers, looking for the one with the secret to enhance his own abilities..." Scully bit her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Mulder, stick to profiling. Leave the fiction to the professionals." "...Like Yappi." Mulder replied mischievously. ________________________________________ Scully studied the remains of the victim but could divine little other than the fact that a large sharp knife, like a chef's knife, was used to remove them. The cuts were long slices, not typical of a scalpel, nor was it from something like a pair of shears or any blunt device. By the angle of the cut and vectors of force, Scully determined that the killer was right handed. The eyes were cut out cleanly, indicating that the victim was subdued before the mutilation took place. The burst blood vessels in the sclera could be a sign that the victim was strangled to death first. Lots of data but not much to go on as far as a criminal investigation. Luckily, the PD received a call that evening from an insurance salesman named Mr. Clyde Bruckman who discovered an eyeless disemboweled corpse in his dumpster. As it turned out, the call was luckier for Mulder than he could ever predict. The victim was actually the killer's first victim, a Madam Zelma, but she was killed in the same fashion as the latest victim. Cline seemed satisfied that Yappi's predictions were coming true since he had said the first victim was 'dumped' and there she was in a dumpster. What Mulder picked up on that Cline overlooked was the inconsistencies in the report by Mr. Bruckman. Bruckman was a large man but he seemed to fade into the plain fixtures of his apartment. He reluctantly re-told his account of finding the body to Mulder and Scully. Mulder confronted Bruckman, asking him how he knew the eyes and guts had been removed if he didn't move the body after me found it, face down in the dumpster. Bruckman gruffly asked, "Well, they had, hadn't they?" Scully nodded pensively then he replied, "So what are you complaining about?" As they questioned him further it became apparent he knew more about the crime than just finding the body. Bruckman knew the eyes were cut out with a piece of a crystal ball, a fact supported by the evidence of crystal shards in the body. He claimed that it was just a logical assumption he made based on the fact that the victim was a fortune teller. When asked how he knew she was a fortune teller, he said her clothes were pretty much a tip off. Mr. Bruckman's logic eluded even Scully, so she asked how much he had heard about this last crime spree. He admitted to hearing about some nut killing fortune readers and tearing out their eyes and entrails. Scully quickly pointed out that the details of the mutilations, specifically the removal of entrails, hadn't been released to the press. Bruckman just waved his hands and answered that he never read the papers...too depressing. Scully raised an eye brow at Mulder as if to say, "I think we have a suspect." But Mulder frowned at her then looked at Bruckman with a curious gaze, as if he was trying to see inside his mind. "Sorry, Mister Bruckman, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with us." Bruckman looked annoyed but not at all surprised. Mulder and Scully took Bruckman to the scene of the latest crime. He seemed bewildered by what Mulder expected from him. "I didn't do it." he insisted. Scully looked on, just as confused as Bruckman, as Mulder reassured the large man he wasn't a suspect. "You're not under suspicion but I do harbor a suspicion that you can see things about this crime... things that we can't see." Scully sighed realizing Mulder was following another one of his hunches. Bruckman pouted and shook his head. "I'm...I'm not sure I understand what you mean." Mulder narrowed his eyes, lowered his voice and slyly answered, "I think you do." Bruckman stood upright defensively. "Yeah, yeah, right. I'd like to see both your badges again, right now." They pulled out the badges as Scully sighed, "I don't blame you, Mr. Bruckman." Bruckman scrutinized the ID's then scoffed, looked at Mulder and said, "You expect me to believe that's a real name." Sully hid a grin but before Mulder could comment, Bruckman started to complain again. "What is this all about? I found a dead body in my dumpster. I reported it to the police. And now suddenly, I'm accused of doing things. Or, or being able to do things that I couldn't poss..." He stopped suddenly and focused on the blood stained carpet were the victim's remains had been found. He recoiled in horror to a vision that only he could see, than dashed off to the bathroom, nauseated by the violence. Mulder grinned at Scully so pleased by his 'discovery' of Bruckman's talent that he leaned over to her and said, "He IS for real. Pinch me." Scully did pinch him in the arm, hard and with a twist. He grimaced and yelped but then made his goofy 'I-told-you-so' face. Scully shook her head and argued that Bruckman was not any more convincing than Yappi, only that he had a different style. Mulder insisted that something was telling him that Bruckman was the real thing. Frustrated, Scully sniped back, "Oh, so now you're psychic?" Mulder opened his mouth to argue but Bruckman came staggering back in. "The killer...he doesn't feel like he's in control of his life." Bruckman started. Before Scully could flash Mulder HER 'I-told-you-so ' look, the reluctant witness added, "I mean, like... who is? Am I right? But this guy... he truly believes it. He sees himself as some kind of a... a puppet." Mulder was anxious to prove Bruckman was not just a fake, and asked for a visual description of the killer. But Bruckman just shook his head. Scully remarked sarcastically, "So you can see into him but not at him." The two men glared at her negative comment but before she apologized for her negative energy, Bruckman became distracted again. In the same spot where Yappi envisioned a rape, Bruckman saw a seduction... by the woman, no less. He sighed and said, "It just seems everyone's having sex except me." Turning towards the agents, he continued, "It wouldn't surprise me if you two had sex just last night." Scully shot a rueful stare at Mulder but he spoke anyway. "Well... actually, we did." Bruckman shook his head. "It figures..." Scully intervened quickly. "No, it's not like that. We're married." Bruckman frowned and studied the agents. "They let you do that while you're on duty?" Mulder nodded. "Not the sex...but yes, they occasionally let married couples work together." Bruckman wandered passed Scully as he looked at the dolls on the wall. "But you didn't change your name did you, Miss Scully?" He glanced back at Mulder and mumbled "Good choice." Scully suppressed a laugh as Mulder continued to press for more information about the killer's motive. Bruckman began to expound on the question of why anyone did anything. Did the murdered woman suddenly realize dolls were the answer or did a series of events compel her to collect dolls? By now, even Mulder was getting tired of Mr. Bruckman's rambling. Picking up a doll, the odd philosopher suddenly reacted to another 'vision' and ominously told them the victim's body was floating in Glenview Lake 'by the fat, little, white Nazi storm trooper.' He said "I think I've seen enough of death for one night." Then he handed the doll to Mulder and walked out of the room. Mulder looked at the pristine doll and shrugged at Scully. Scully looked blankly at Mulder and said, "I think Mr. Bruckman made at least one good observation...why am I here?" Mulder set the doll back on the shelf and answered "We're looking for killer. And I suggest we start at Glenview Lake at first light." Scully frowned "Is that where the fat, little, white storm troopers go on parade?" "No." Mulder answered seriously. "We need to get there before they awake up." ___________________________________ The next morning, they did find a body in Glenview Lake near a round white propane tank topped with a black cap, which bore an uncanny resemblance to a fat, little, white Nazi storm trooper. Scully claimed that the coincidence was just an example of how the human mind tries to find connections and patterns even when there aren't any. Mulder argued that Bruckman named a specific body of water but Scully argued that only strengthened the case against him as a suspect. Neither truly believed Bruckman was a killer but Scully refused to believe his guesses were anything more than luck. "Mulder, why does everything have to have a hidden meaning?" Scully moaned. "If someone knocks on your door and no one is there, it's a signal from some secret informant. If there's no Wheaties at the store, it's a conspiracy to alter your diet. If some one wins the lottery twice, they possess some psychic ability. Why can't you believe in the ordinary mundane reality of random chance?" Mulder smiled boyishly as he pretended to study the scene, "Just because it is mundane and ordinary. I'm not psychic. Yet, in my profiling I see things others miss. Do you know why?" "Well if you listen to anyone else in the bureau, it's because you're nuts...." Scully answered. "...But I know its because you believe in extreme possibilities." "When you eliminated the impossible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable...or extreme... must be the truth. Arthur Colin Doyle as Sherlock Holmes." Mulder paraphrased. "Some things have to believed to be seen. Ashleigh Brilliant, Berkeley street philosopher and writer of one liner postcards." Scully quoted smartly in return. __________________________________ Scully left to conduct her autopsy while Mulder paid another visit to the man Scully thought was just lucky. Mr. Bruckman would have disagreed with her violently, having lost once again at the weekly lotto game. He covered his face and shook his head, wonder why he torture himself like this each week. He heard a knock and told the visitor to come in. With his eyes still covered he announced. "I knew it was you. I know why you're here. You're here because you found that woman's body where I told you it would be. And now you're convinced I have some kind of psychic power. So while your skeptical lady partner is off performing an autopsy, you came here to ask my help catching this serial murderer." Mulder excited that Bruckman was the 'real thing' replied, "Everything you said is correct." Bruckman uncovered his face and frowned at Mulder. "Oh...it's you." he said disappointedly. Mulder stood dumbfounded by the odd reaction. Bruckman asked him to leave, refusing to help with the investigation. Mulder tried to convince him that his 'gift' was something special and that he should use to help people but Bruckman argued that it was more of a curse than gift and that knowing your fate wouldn't actually change it. As Mulder became more frustrated by his apathetic attitude, Bruckman finally asked, "Do you want to know how you're doing to die." Mulder swallowed hard and said honesty "Y-yes, I do." Bruckman shook his head then asked, "Do you want to know how she's going to die?" Mulder knew he meant Scully. It was much tougher question to answer. Bruckman stood and patted him on the shoulder, "Of course you don't. The harder you try to prevent it, the closer you may drive her towards her fate. Then who's to blame?" Mulder paused thoughtfully and consider how often he'd tried to protect Scully and failed miserably. He was about to give up on Bruckman when another thought struck him. "Mr. Bruckman, you see death, the end of life, but you don't know the journey. How the events come to pass." Bruckman eyed him suspiciously. "That's what you want, isn't it. To understand where luck ends and fate begins. To find some hope, in your future, in everyone's future. We're all dying, Mr. Bruckman, and in the end it doesn't matter how we die but how we live. You can go on selling life insurance, unethically I might add, and die alone and forgotten. Or you can try to use your unique skill to save a few lives. Even if we don't succeed, at least you'll have lived before you die." Bruckman took a deep breath and growled "Are you done?" Mulder nodded anxiously. "Good. I decided to help you about half way through your speech when I realized that trying to alter the fate others might change my own fate. God knows I could use a change. Besides, I've seen those pretty girls that hang around the psychic guy, Yuppi or Whoopie...whatever. So, where do we start?" _____________________________ Mulder took Bruckman to the police station and tried to run some basic tests to evaluate the status of his psychic ability but it became evident that his talent was limited to the one skill seeing how people will die. Yet Mulder knew that somehow he did have a connection to the killer but the connection wasn't strong enough to provide any helpful leads. Wearily Mulder handed Bruckman a series of articles and asked what impressions he received. The answers were categorized as a 'hit' or a 'miss'. Bruckman was scoring an all time high in the 'miss' column. Scully entered as Bruckman was trying to get a 'reading' from a swatch of blue cloth. Mulder looked like he was about to start banging is head on the wall with frustration. Mulder spoke to Scully quietly. "You were wrong about being him being lucky. By pure chance, he should have gotten at least one 'hit' by now but all be can tell me is how people die and I have no way of verifying if he's right." Bruckman interrupted excitedly, holding up the cloth. "I got it! It's yours. This is from your New York Knick's T-shirt." Mulder replied once again "Miss." "The Yankee's?" he guessed. Mulder shook his head. "Her night gown?" Scully looked accusingly at Mulder until he shook his head again. "Somebody else's night gown?" Mulder grabbed the cloth from Bruckman and muttered "Now you're just guessing." Bruckman threw his hands up. "Yeah, so...is it a hit or a miss?" Scully folded her arms and eyed Mulder closely. "Yes, Agent Mulder, in the interest of science...hit or miss?" "Hit...sort of." Mulder answered carefully. "It's a rag from Agent Henderson's car made from her... she had trouble starting the car last week and I... " Scully pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile at his discomfort. She let him off the hook by handing Bruckman a key chain. Mulder moaned over his lack of success with Bruckman and quietly asking her what it was. She reported that it bore the logo of Uranus Unlimited, a company specializing in investment strategies based on astrological predication. Several of the victims had the same key chain. To the agent's surprise, Bruckman accurately identified the owner of UU as Claude Dukenfield and even knew his address, annual income and martial status. An impressive 'hit' until he revealed that he sold him a life insurance policy a few months ago. "Just another coincidence." he shrugged. Scully sported her 'look' once again and told Mulder that the police were looking for Dukenfield. Bruckman helpfully told her not to waste her time. "He's been murdered." Luckily Bruckman 'knew' where to find the body. The PD thought the FBI agents were wasting their time with a kook they should arrest instead of treating to a drive in the countryside. Scully was inclined to agree with them but for some reason she had taken a liking to Mr. Bruckman's off beat humor. Maybe it was just the way he constantly frustrated Mulder. As she drove the car, Bruckman continued to drive Mulder crazy. "How are you receiving this information about the body's location?" Mulder questioned from the back seat. "How should I know?" replied Bruckman tersely. "Is it a vision or a sensation?" Mulder persisted. "I just know." Bruckman barked. "Yeah but..." And back and forth, until Mulder finally slumped back in his seat without any real answers. Bruckman glanced at Scully then back at Mulder and commented offhandedly, "You know, there are worse ways to go, but I can't think of a more undignified one than auto-erotic asphyxiation." Mulder leaned forward suddenly. "Why are you telling me that?" "Look, forget I mentioned it. It's none of my business." Bruckman replied with an innocent look. Mulder saw the smirk on Scully's face and opened his mouth ask again when Bruckman cut him off. "This is the spot." he announced. There was nothing but a muddy hole in a roadside pullout. Scully got out of the car and looked around but saw nothing unusual. She opened Bruckman's door and gestured toward the adjacent woods. Bruckman sighed heavily and got out to join her. "Mr. Bruckman and I will check out the forest... if you want to be alone for a while." she teased in reference to the solitary nature of auto-erotic pursuits. Mulder growled "And leave you alone with him? Not a chance..." and joined them as they searched through the underbrush. _________________________ As they walked, Bruckman looked around like a man who lost his car in a parking lot, with that 'I-know-it's-here' look. Mulder continued to ask Bruckman about his unusual talent. Bruckman told the story of how in 1959 Buddy Holly died in a plane crash on the way to a concert which he happened to have tickets to. The thing was, Bruckman was really a bigger fan of J.P. Richardson, the Big Bopper of 'Chantilly Lace' fame. The Big Bopper wasn't supposed to be on the plane; he'd won the seat with a flip of a coin. After the Big Bopper died in the crash, Bruckman became obsessed with the thought of all the events that had to take place in the Big Bopper's life, as well as everyone else's life, so that on that night his life hinged on the flip of a coin. Gradually the obsession turned into an ability to 'see' how people would die. Scully stopped dead in her tracks. "Mister Bruckman, I'm not one who readily believes in that kind of thing and if I was, I still wouldn't believe that story." True to form, he gave another unexpected answer. "I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it's true. I was a bigger fan of the Big Bopper than Buddy Holly." Mulder smiled broadly as it was now Scully's turn to be annoyed and frustrated by their new 'partner.' Scully had just about enough and asked directly "Are you doing this deliberately to annoy us or are you really that stupid?" Bruckman threw up his hands innocently. "The truth is, I like you Mr. Bruckman and I'd be more than happy to listen to your stories. But there's a killer on the loose and so far you've done nothing to help us find him. If you can't find that body, I'll have to assume you're information is unreliable and drop you from this investigation. In fact I'll have to consider placing you under arrest for aiding and abetting or at least the obstruction of justice. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" Bruckman nodded silently and Scully stomped back to the car. Bruckman looked at Mulder and said, "Did you hear what she said to me?" Mulder began to apologize when he finished "She said she liked me. I'm glad I listened to you. This case is getting more interesting all the time." Bruckman followed Scully to the car and Mulder stood there, wondering if there was anyway to resolve this case quickly before Bruckman drove him insane. Scully tried to move the car but the wheels just slipped in the mud. Bruckman and Mulder got out and tried to push as she stepped on the gas but it only threw mud all over Mulder. As luck would have it, moving the mud revealed the final resting place of Mr. Dukenfield. The car was parked over his shallow grave, exactly where Bruckman said it would be. ______________________________________ Scully completed the autopsy on Dukenfield's remains as Mulder searched the web for possible connections between Uranus Unlimited and Bruckman. There was something bothering Mulder about Bruckman's connection to the killer. How could he see into the darkest visions of a man he knew nothing about? Was the killer's obsession with death some kind of conduit to Bruckman or was it something more mundane related to investments and life insurance scams? As he surfed, Mulder thought about the story of how Mr. Bruckman developed his unique vision. Mulder found his way to a website dedicated to the late Buddy Holly. The page loaded up to the music of "American Pie" by Don McLean. Mulder recalled that the song was a cryptic lament over death of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Richie Valence, and how their deaths changed rock and roll. The song was always a puzzle to Mulder, as it was to most everyone who heard it. It was filled with metaphors, catch phrases and jumbled images. The chorus played and he listened looking for some hidden meaning that applied to the odd insurance salesman... "Bye-bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye Singing this'll be the day that I die. This'll be the day that I die." ...Then it struck him. The song was about the end of innocence, the despair that follows and ultimately leads to death. Although the song was referring to the demise of a style of music, Mulder realized it also applied to Mr. Bruckman himself. By forcing him to help in the investigation and to see the real bodies of the victims, Mulder had taken away his 'safe distance' from death. Through a series of events already in motion, Bruckman would come to regret his decision to help once he became aware of the hopelessness of trying to stop the killings and perhaps take his own life. Bruckman's connection to the killer was his own death and the circumstances surrounding it. Mulder heaved a heavy sigh. Scully and even Bruckman himself would laugh at this wild theory. Mulder was no psychic but he had a unique talent of his own unlocking insights from one point of view, tapping into the common collective of human emotion and experiences, and 'seeing' from another person's perspective. Maybe Scully was right and his 'insights' were the sum total of his own training and experience distilled through the evidence collected from the crime scenes and collected in his subconscious. Either way it was too 'spooky' to explain and too easy to dismiss. So instead of warning Bruckman, Mulder would watch him carefully and try to protect him from the lingering consequences of 'the day the music died.' ________________________________ Scully had her own dilemma. All the evidence pointed to Bruckman as the primary suspect yet she felt certain he was innocent. She considered the possibility of multiple personalities, despite the atypical characteristics. Scully knew one thing...Mulder believed in Bruckman's ability to predict someone's death and in his connection to the killer. With all the turmoil and conflict in their life lately, Scully was hesitant to openly confront Mulder. Avoiding conflict with him was unprofessional and selfish but she concluded that it did no harm. After all, if they continued to work with Bruckman, she could study his behavior for evidence of multiple personalities. And if he was the murderer, they would be in a position to prevent another death. If nothing else, by presenting Bruckman with evidence, they could bring to focus the hard facts of the case and perhaps facilitate their own investigative instincts. Mulder knew she didn't believe in Bruckman's visions but he wouldn't stand in her way if she built a case for her own theory. Why should she burst his 'extreme possibility' bubble? In the end, it was easier to think of him as a partner instead of her lover. Partners could follow separate paths to the same destination; lovers by definitions stayed together until the end. _______________________________ The following day, Mulder presented Bruckman with a small thread of cotton fiber taken from Dukenfield's body. Given his past performance with the other items, Bruckman questioned the logic of letting him 'read' the evidence, as did Scully. The more Mulder pushed, the more Bruckman resisted until Mulder resorted to new tactics bribery. Promising to buy life insurance, he finally persuaded Bruckman to examine the fiber. Bruckman opened the small baggie and sniffed the thread. He was unable to identify the fiber but he started to describe the thoughts and visions of the killer. "He thinks he's psychic." Bruckman started. Scully moaned under her breath "Not another one..." Mulder ignored her and asked, "Is he?" "I hope not." Bruckman replied ominously. He proceeded to describe the killer's visions. In the dim light of a large industrial kitchen, he was stalking Mulder. The story unfolded in suspenseful prose, drawing Mulder and Scully closer as they listened intensely. The killer welded a blood stained knife but Mulder was too distracted to see him approaching. Suddenly Bruckman's account came to a melodramatic halt as he became fixated on Mulder's distraction a pie on the floor he stepped in to. As Bruckman finally resumed the story, a look of anguish and horror crossed his face. In his vision of the killer's vision, he saw blood gushing from Mulder's slashed throat. Bruckman looked at Scully's anxious face, needing to hear his story even if she didn't believe it. So just as the tension came to a crescendo, Bruckman broke off again. "Nothing. Just the visions of a madman." he said without giving the graphic details. Bruckman knew how Mulder would die. This wasn't it. Why worry her? Of course, his raving only helped to convince Scully that Bruckman was just stringing them along, pretending to get a reading from the thread. Until Bruckman admitted that he couldn't get a thing from the tiny scrape of evidence and showed them an unopened letter he received from "The killer." Mulder opened the sealed letter and read out-loud. "To whom it may concern. Like our lives, this is a mere formality to let you know I know that you know. Can't wait till our first meeting when I kill you. Not before you explain some things to me. First on the list, why in the world did I send you this letter? Sincerely, you know who. P.S., say 'hi' to the FBI agents." Bruckman sheepish waved hello to the agents. Mulder observed that the letter was postmarked before they actually meet Bruckman. Even Scully couldn't argue against the fact that Bruckman's life was in danger. Like a bizarre game of psychic hide-and-go-seek, the killer was trying to second guess his adversary's next move. Bruckman tried to refuse protective custody, claiming he would be dead before they caught the killer. At this point Scully was bound and determined to break the cycle of coincidence and circumstance. "Mr. Bruckman, you either come with us a witness or as a suspect. I won't pretend for a moment to believe you have the abilities you claim to possess but I do suspect that someone is manipulating you to lead us astray. They could be planting these images via post-hypnotic suggestion, subliminal saturation, or straight forward letters like this one. Since no one but Agent Mulder actually believes in your abilities, your knowledge of the details of each crime predisposes you to be under suspicion. In the event of your untimely demise and no further evidence, this whole case will be closed based on that suspicion and we'll be sent back to Washington DC with nothing to show for our efforts but a large unjustified expenditure. So, regardless of what skills you may or may not have, and who may or may not be trying to kill you, I will not let you die until we resolve this case. Is that clear?" "Perfectly." Bruckman answered plainly. He grabbed an over-night bag he apparently kept ready for travel and walked to the door. Waiting for Mulder, he pointed to the door. "Well, let's go. You heard the lady." Mulder felt as if he was left behind as a speeding train whizzed by him. A speeding red-haired train. Scully was a force to be reckoned with when she made up her mind. Although his reasons for holding Bruckman were different than hers, her argument as impossible to resist, at least for Bruckman. Mulder still felt that the morose insurance salesman was his own worst enemy but it was clear who was the most staunch defender of his life. What fool would let himself die in defiance of her will? _______________________________ Scully took the first shift guarding Bruckman in an up-scale hotel downtown. He seemed to be enjoying the treatment, admiring the food and service. He even took notice of the lace doilies on the serving tray. He offered to share the wealth with her but she politely refused. Bruckman asked what her was going and she replied "Studying background checks. This is what detective work is really like. We can't come up with suspects by having visions." "Jealous?" he replied with a grin. When she didn't respond, he added "Your husband is." That got her attention. She put down the papers and started to say something but he continued before her words formed. "He's jealous of my skills, not of my life style. Lord knows, he doesn't want to live alone and outcast, cursed by his own visions. Not when he could share a home with a woman like you." Scully sighed heavily. "You'd be surprised..." "Then he's an idiot." Bruckman grunted. "Mr. Bruckman, why do you like me?" she asked suddenly. "I've done nothing but question you and your integrity yet you seem willing to listen to me over Mulder." Bruckman shrugged. "You're nicer to look at. Besides you don't keep asking me all those annoying questions." Scully folded her arms and waited for a real answer. "All right...of all the people I've met in my miserable life, you're the only one who understands death." Scully stiffened. "It's my job. I don't understand death any more than any other doctor. I just use it as a tool." "No, no... It's more than just a job to you. Death speaks to you. You see things... life... within death itself. You give it meaning...hope." Bruckman threw up his hands. "I don't know what I'm saying. Forget it." Scully gave him a reserved smile. "I think I understand. Thank you." As the evening went on, Scully and Bruckman formed an odd friendship. She shared stories of life and death while he told of his exploits in trying to sell life insurance to people when he knew how and where they would die. His parent company wasn't always happy with the unlucky agent who sold large policies to people who ended up dying at a young age. Finally she asked if he saw his own end. Bruckman answered that he saw their end. Apologizing for his frankness, he described the scene in bits. They were together in bed and she was holding his hand tenderly. Tears were streaming down his eyes and he had a tremendous feeling of gratefulness. It was a special moment that neither one would ever forget. Scully smiled to herself and said frankly, "Mister Bruckman... there are hits and there are misses. And then there are misses." "I just call them as I see 'em." He shrugged. "So tell me... what made you so skeptical even when confronted with illogical facts?" "You sound like Mulder." she mused. Bruckman held up his hands. "In that case, forget I ever asked. How about some cards instead." As they talked and played cards, Bruckman felt as if may be his luck was changing. He looked at his hand two pair then frowned as he realized it was aces and eights, the Dead Man's Hand. As he considered his misfortune, Scully described her opinion of the power of prophecy. She recounted famous characters in literature who died as a result of misunderstanding signs and portents, specifically Ahab, her father's alter ego. Bruckman regarded his unlucky hand, the same poker hand held by Wild Bill Hickok when he was shot dead. Not literature, history. Another coincidence? He looked at Scully and asked. "Still, you're not the least bit curious?" They were interrupted by a knock at the door. She got up to answer apparently not the least bit curious. Suddenly she stopped and folded her arms as she turned to face him. "All right. So how do I die." Bruckman smiled as if he'd been dying for her to ask. "You don't." Scully just stared back, wondering why she wasn't surprised at his answer until the knocking became more insistent. Mulder stood at the door, grinning wildly handing her a lab reports. He reported the fiber from of the victims' bodies was lace. "Chantilly lace?" Scully quizzed in disbelief. "You know what I like." Mulder quoted from the famous song as he swooped down to give her an enthusiastic kiss. She pushed him off, saying the chances of the killer wearing lace during the murders was unlikely. He continued his amorous advances as he closed the door behind him and whispered "But what are the odds of the Big Bopper, 'Chantilly lace...', you sweet thing..." quoting from the song once again. She resisted but only slightly. "It's a coincidence." She murmured as her lips brushed his neck. She knew exactly what he was doing. It was his way of telling her she lost the argument. It wasn't such a bad way to lose. "If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?" Mulder challenged as he buried his face into her hair. Bruckman entered the room. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting? Do you want to be alone?" Mulder and Scully broke away, blushing slightly. Mulder cleared his throat. "Umm... I'm here to relieve Agent Scully." Bruckman pursed his lips and watched Scully try to regain her composure. "She looks pretty relieved to see you." "I'd better leave. I still have work to do." Scully responded, patting Mulder on the arm. "Good night, Mulder, Mr. Bruckman." _____________________________ Scully drove back to the PD station to check on the analysis of the letter sent to Bruckman. She though about the odd insurance salesman and his comment about her not dying. What could he have meant? That her memory would live on. Maybe she would be frozen in suspended animation. Perhaps she would disappear without a trace and NEVER return. Most likely, Bruckman was just flirting with her, just like Yappi. Actually, better than Yappi. She clicked on the radio for a distraction. It took a moment for her to recognized the music as "That'll be the Day" by Buddy Holly. she thought to herself. Even she was beginning to doubt the chances of so many coincidences at once. Scully listened to the words and realized the coincidence went ever deeper than she realized. "Well, that'll be the day, when you say goodbye Yes, that'll be the day, when you make me cry You say you're gonna leave, you know it's a lie 'Cause that'll be the day when I die." How many times had she and Mulder promised each other they would stay together only to be split apart? Yet every time, they came back together. Maybe that's what Bruckman meant. If she ever left Mulder for good 'that'll be the day' she dies. And according to his prophecy, she never dies. ___________________________________________ Bruckman went to retired for the evening. But Mulder had yet another question for the reluctant psychic. Mulder's own experience was limited to prophetic dreams and asked if Bruckman ever had dreams foretelling the future. Bruckman claimed to have only one dream. He graphically told of how he saw his lifeless body lay among a field of flowers and slowly decay. With that disturbing image as his final good night, Bruckman turned off the light, leaving Mulder with the lingering thought of death and decay in the next bed. Mulder thought to himself. ___________________________ The following morning, a sleepless Mulder was greeted by a fully rested and alert Scully, with Detective Havez in tow. There had been another murder nearby. Bruckman was off the hook as a suspect but his prophecies had done nothing to prevent more death, just as he predicted. Havez remained with Bruckman as Mulder left with Scully to check out the murder scene. Bruckman said good-bye with a mock farewell wave. "Call me if you need me." he jokingly offered. As they walked down the hall towards the elevator, Mulder expressed his frustration over Bruckman's limited ability. Scully unexpectedly said she felt more sympathy towards the lonely man. While unconvinced of his psychic ability, she felt that his perception of his 'curse' took all the joy out of his life. Mulder raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering to bring some joy into his life?" Scully turned to frown at Mulder. As she did, she nearly collided with a bellhop delivering a tray to a room. They shuffled back and forth trying to pass each other until Scully grabbed the tray to keep the bellhop in place and slid pass him. Scully finally replied to Mulder, "Are you willing to let me?" Mulder grinned and wrapped his arm around her. He confessed to her his fear that Bruckman might committee suicide as a result of mounting death count. She admitted to her suspicion of multiple personalities. "I don't know, Mulder." she sighed. "He's obviously not the killer but I can't explain his visions or his knowledge of the murders." "Scully, he's psychic. Really." Mulder stated plainly. She refrained from arguing so he added "But he's also neurotic and depressed. If we don't stop this killer, Mr. Bruckman may indirectly be his next victim." ________________________________ Bruckman didn't much care for Havez. He was boring and crude compared to Mulder and just plain ugly compared to Scully. Once Bruckman assured Havez that he wouldn't die of lung cancer, Havez breathed a sigh of relief and placed a cigarette between his lips. Bruckman offered him a light then Havez left him to use the bathroom. Bruckman didn't hear the warning not to open the door for anyone. Instead, he became engrossed in an image he received from the cigarette lighter. The lighter was the property of his neighbor, a kindly but scatter-minded woman named Mrs. Lowe. A vision flashed through his mind on her lifeless body on the floor of her apartment, dead from a heart attack, with her pet Pomeranian gnawing on her bones. He recoiled in horror and when he heard a knock, he automatically opened the door. The same bellhop that bumped into Scully brought a tray into the room and set it on the table. As Bruckman handed him a tip, their hands touched briefly. They instantly looked at each other with recognition, even though they had never formally met. The truth was, they had met briefly once before. Bruckman had bumped into him days ago, the same was Scully did. It was enough to make 'a connection.' The bellhop was the mysterious killer, and Bruckman was the man he sought to answer the burning question he posed to all his psychic victims. They both stood amazed at the coincidence. Here was Bruckman being delivered, as it were, on a silver platter, right to the killer's work place. Bruckman thought about what Mulder had said earlier about coincidences and began to wonder if his whole life was created to amuse some sick person watching from in the distance. If so Bruckman, planned to have the last laugh. His thoughts returned to the moment as the bellhop sat down as if talking to an old friend. Knowing that Bruckman had visions of the horrible murders, the bellhop asked, "Why have I done these things?" Bruckman gave him a simple, clear answer that finally made sense. "You do the things you do because you're a homicidal maniac." So much for Mulder's profile. As if the answer relieved him of the guilt he felt, the bellhop prepared to knife Bruckman but stopped when the psychic insurance man told him it wasn't time yet. The reason why became clear as Havez came from the bathroom, reacting quickly but fumbling for his weapon. The bellhop was on him in an instant. Bruckman saw another opportunity to make a difference die with Havez then rushed off to Mrs. Lowe's apartment to try one last time. __________________ At a Tarot Card reader's shop around the corner, Detective Cline, Mulder and Scully studied the latest victim. The body was still present and the eyes hadn't been removed, although a fork protruded from the left eyeball as if the killer started to remove it then lost interest. Cline reveled in the abundance of hard evidence foot prints, finger prints, may be even witnesses. Scully became distracted by an ambulance outside the window. Her mind wandered to what Mulder had said about coincidences seeming so contrived. She had a strange thought to look at her hand. As she did she saw a small white thread clinging to her finger tip. "Mulder, I found another strand of that silk." she remarked thoughtfully. Mulder pointed out they had a lot more than that this time. Cline grunted. "Yeah, this is more like it. No more psychics and their vague visions and predictions. Hell, we don't even need our own hunches. This case is just now about good old-fashioned forensic police work." Mulder expected to Scully to cheer at his resignation to the physical evidence. Instead her face flashed with a sudden revelation. "It's the bellhop. He's the killer, the bellhop at the hotel." Without a clue as to how she reached her conclusion she ran back to the hotel. Cline growled, "How the hell does she know that? Woman's intuition?" "Better. Scully's logic." Mulder answered and headed for the door after her. _________________________________ Scully hurried to Bruckman's room as Mulder checked the ground floor. She caught a glimpse of the bellhop running to the stairs just as she got off the elevator. She quickly looked in the hotel room to find Havez dead and Bruckman missing. She ran back into the hall to track down the killer. Mulder saw the bellhop dash into the kitchen just off the lobby. He followed him but the lights were out and he could barely see. Suddenly he stepped into a pie that had dropped to the floor. He froze remembering Bruckman's vision and spun around to keep anyone from sneaking up on him. Suddenly the killer attacked Mulder from behind. He pressed the knife toward Mulder's throat but Mulder managed to block it with his arms until the knife bit into his wrists. Wounded and bleeding, the killer over powered him and threw him to the floor. The knife poised high for a fatal thrust, the killer was suddenly interrupted as the service elevator doors opened. Scully stepped out, gun drawn, yelling at him to drop the knife. He ignored her, as if he was certain of his fate, and focused back on the helpless Mulder. Two shots rang out and the surprised bellhop stared at the holes ripped into his chest. He gasped, "Hey, that's not suppose to happen." then fell to the floor, dropping the knife harmlessly on Mulder's stomach. Mulder groaned to the lifeless body, "She doesn't believe in psychics. She makes her own luck." Scully quickly checked Mulder's wound and called for help. When she explained she got on the service elevator by mistake, he refrained from saying anything about fate, coincidences or luck. She did, however, tell him that the killer didn't get Bruckman although Havez was dead. Mulder's mind snapped to alert when she said Bruckman was missing. Fearing the worst, they rushed to Bruckman's home. __________________________________ They found a small Pomeranian dog tied to Mr. Bruckman's door and a note addressed to Miss Scully. The note read: "My neighbor, Mrs. Lowe, passed away last night. Please see that the remains of her remains are taken care of. I'm sure you'll find she died of natural causes. Would you like a dog? He's paper-trained and well-behaved, regardless of his actions last night, which you can't really blame him for. Tell your husband, he's a lucky man. Not everyone can romance death but I guess you already knew that." They cautiously walked through the open door, with the dog following happily behind them. They found Clyde Bruckman in his final repose, laying on the bed, a plastic bag pulled over his head, and an empty bottle of sleeping pills in his hand. Scully held his hand gently, pretending to feel for a pulse. Of course there was no life left in the tired body but as she gazed at his peaceful expression, the condensation from the plastic made it appear as if tears were rolling down his face. This was the vision he had of their end. One last 'hit'. Her own tears began to form as she enshrined the memory in her mind. Mulder looked on with his own sadness. If only Bruckman knew that his vision of Mulder's attack helped save Mulder's life perhaps he wouldn't have felt he had no choice but to end it all. He gazed curiously at the suffocating plastic over the body and thought about Bruckman's affection for Scully. Maybe this was the 'auto-erotic asphyxiation' he was talking about. Maybe not. Maybe life was just an on-going joke with death as the punch line. If so, Bruckman was the master comic, ending his life in a style all his own. Mulder drew his body protectively around Scully, silently wishing she would never die. That would be her style of humor, an expectant pause waiting for a punch line that never came. _______________________________ News spread quickly about the 'Psychic Killings', as the tabloids dubbed the case. The Stupendous Yappi was the first to step forward to claim his success in solving the case. Cline didn't want to appear as if he wasted department funds hiring him so he backed the psychic claims. But Agent Moe Bocks, through his unorthodox connections, spread the word that an insurance salesman was the really psychic who broke the case aided by two unnamed FBI agents. When Yappi's backers tried to block these stories, Bock threatened to spread rumors that the "Death Insurance Salesman" claimed Yappi would meet his demise by auto-erotic asphyxiation. Mulder and Scully followed the battle in the tabloids, amused by the outrageousness of it all. With her new pet cuddled in her lap, Scully reached over to rub Mulder's back as he tried to stretch out on the rest of couch. He emptied out his pockets to make himself more comfortable. Scully noticed the card bearing Yappi's likeness and the name 'Jasmine', proclaiming her as a 'True Believer.' "Mulder, is there something I should know about?" she teased as her hands caressed his shoulders. He smiled and replied. "Hey, you got the damn dog. I deserve a little something." She pinched him sharply and pretended to be angry, "I'll give you a little something..." He whined playfully. "She approached me. I didn't do anything." "She's a true believer in psychic power. To her, it's the thought that counts." she countered. "Well, here's something for you to think about." he whispered seductively. Guiding her hand over his shoulder, he gently suckled her delicate fingers. She moaned softly and lightly scratched his back with her other hand. He moved closer, until his upper body shared her lap with the dog. He nuzzled her stomach even as the dog growled in his ear. She gently moved the dog to the floor and slid down to meet Mulder. As the dog whined for attention, the two lovers silently shared their emotions and desires, as if reading each other's mind. As the minutes passed, the dog was completely ignored but at least it had a wonderfully ugly tie to chew on. Then a shirt, another shirt and then more clothes than any dog would know what to do with. Partners, lovers, spouses...what people called the relationship Mulder and Scully shared made little difference. What was important was that one was always there for the other when it mattered. To come to the rescue. To argue until the truth was found. To love until they rested in a final embrace. END ___________________________________ Just a light-hearted interlude before the next onslaught of emotion and angst in the IM Files series. May it serve to answer the question of how do you love someone who constantly drives you insane. Please forward all comments and questions to shinkai@mlode.com or contact me through my website at http://www.mlode.com/~shinkai/fanfic/ xffanfic.htm Story Notes: I'm a long time fan of Buddy Holly, a fact I attribute to having been born shortly after 'the day the music died.' I'm also a fan of Don McLean and have spent many hours trying to interpret "American Pie." Mulder is only slightly younger than me and he loves a mystery so he should know that famous song and have his own 'spooky' interpretation. I added Agent Bocks to the story when I realized this case takes place in the same city as "Irresistible". Since the PD calls him on all the weird cases, he would have gotten this one unless he was too busy. Enter Mulder and Scully in his place. By some coincidence of writing, both cases involved mutilation. In the first case they horrified Scully, in the next one they almost amused her. Time changes everything... I added a few jealous moments for Mulder just to keep his wit sharp. His thoughts about Yappi not being much to look at were actually my own inside joke. The actor who portrayed Yappi was David Duchovney's stand-in. Bruckman obviously liked Scully and to this day no one knows what he meant when he said she'd never die. Why not play it for a little reflection on "That'll be the Day." I gave Scully's collection of data from an autopsy of body parts to emphasis her ability to 'read' death, just as Mulder 'reads' minds. This point is later recognized and respected by Bruckman, giving him a focal point for his fondness of Scully. Ashleigh Brilliant really was/is a Berkeley street philosopher and writer of one liner postcards called 'Pot Shots', popular in the mid Seventies to early Eighties, just about the time Scully was at Berkeley. And in case you forgot, Agent Henderson was the blonde hand-writing specialist who flirted with Mulder in "Young at Heart". And the 'sick person watching in the distance' that Mr. Bruckman was created to amuse... that would be us, dear gentle viewers.