From: Tyche Subject: NEW: "Life In Detail" C (PG) Date sent: Sat, 29 Nov 1997 08:10:06 +0000 (If this formatting is all messed up, please let me know! I've never done this before, and have no clue what I'm doing) NEW STORY Title: Life In Detail Author: Tyche E-mail: Tyche@worldnet.att.net Rating: PG Category: C Spoilers: None Keywords: Highlander Summary: Mulder and Scully have a fated encounter with a girl and her mentor. *** Life in Detail by, Tyche Legal Stuff: Not mine, never were, never will be. None of them. None of this has any affiliation with 10/13 Productions, Fox, etc. Don't sue, I don't have anything you'd want anyway. Crossover Info: This is a crossover with Highlander. It uses the character of Connor MacLeod (mainly because Duncan was pissing me off. Besides, he's off playing with Methos.) If you don't know the Highlander universe, it consists of people who look and act like you and me, except for one thing: they are immortal and can only be killed if their heads are severed from their necks. They are involved in a contest called The Game where they fight to the last because There Can Be Only One. Connor MacLeod is a 450-year old immortal who comes from the highlands of Scotland. This takes place BEFORE the Gathering. This was not the best explanation of the concept, so please stay tuned, or catch the TV show. Any Highlander fan will probably kill me for this horrid rendition. Story Info: This is a little drabble that grew out of Connor, Mulder and one other character all talking incessantly in my head, and refusing to shut up. So I wrote their story down. If people are interested, I'll write a before and after for it. If not, well, at least I shut them all up!!! *** Danville, Virginia 10:38 pm Mulder reached the scene first. He peeked cautiously down the alleyway, and took in the picture before him. And all he could do at first was stare. A man, his back to the FBI agent, was in the middle of what could only be described as a lightening storm. A very secluded lightening storm. Blue and white streaks of energy seemed to reach out of no where and hit him, yanking him in all directions. As Mulder wondered, slightly perversely, what that had to feel like, he was answered, as the man began to scream. Finally, the light show died down, and then the man collapsed into a boneless heap. Then Mulder spotted something else- a body. There was a headless- Headless!!- corpse at the man's feet. And a four-foot long sword in his hand. The man wearily rose unsteadily to his feet. As Mulder watched, the man leaned down again, picked up *another* sword, and slowly began to head out the other direction of the ally, moving as if he had just come from a drinking contest using double-malt scotch with a cyclops who happened to possess a ridiculously high alcohol tolerance level. Or like he just had one hell of a bad day, that consisted of getting dumped by his fianc‚, mugged by a 10-year-old gangster, made to sit through 5 hours of paperwork on the mugging, and then traveling across the Serengetti with a non-stop chatterbox as his only company. Mulder couldn't tell which was more probable, he'd have to consult Scully on that one. But he did see a man walking away from a murder site with the weapon of choice for the murderer in his hand. Mulder's FBI/cop senses took over, and he drew his gun, shouting to the man, "Freeze, FBI! Drop your weapons!!" The man turned, a stunned look on his face. Now Mulder saw him with slightly more clarity. He had light brown hair, and was tall and on the lean side. He wore a brown overcoat, faded jeans, a white- now slightly bloody- shirt and tennis shoes. The man simply looked at Mulder for a moment, then began running. Unfortunately for Mulder, he was headed in the wrong direction for any holy power to be taking pity on the FBI agent. Mulder cursed and began to give chase. The man was moving like a born runner, but, Mulder assumed, he must have been exhausted from the whatever had just happened, and Mulder was gaining ground steadily. Then suddenly something large and dark rose out of the shadows of the ally through which he was running, and he stumbled and fell over it. Mulder looked up and saw a woman step out of the shadows. Oh, great. This day is getting better and better. The only girl who takes a remote interest in me is trying to kill me. She was on the tall side, and looked to be about 25 or 26 years of age. Her brown eyes were large, and she looked well-muscled and strong. Brown hair was confined in a pony-tail. Fox Mulder looked up at her and his eyes locked on hers. And they both gasped. Mulder looked at the woman in front of him. She looked familiar somehow. He looked into her eyes, and saw that she seemed to recognize him, too. They just stared at each other for what felt to each of them like an eternity. Then the man with the swords appeared beside her. "Sam! Come on!" He spoke to her urgently. She gazed up at him, with a very confused expression on her face. Now Mulder saw the face of the murderer clearly. Light brown hair framed a somewhat stern face. Slightly drawn lips and large brown eyes gave him a look of a man who was not to be trifled with. He tugged at Sam's arm, and she turned to leave with him. The name she had been called never registered with Fox as he saw a murderer turn to run away. He groped for his gun, which he had lost when he fell. Grabbing it, he rose up into a kneeling position, aiming the gun at the back of the man. "Freeze!!" He yelled to them. As one they turned back to him. The man pushed the woman towards the end of the ally and told her to run. She hesitated for a moment, then turned back to go. And she came face-to-muzzle with Scully's gun. "Don't move!" Scully said to the woman. Her eyes widened. Scully moved to push her up against the wall, as she called out to her partner. "Mulder, you ok?" Her captive turned to her in astonishment, ignoring the gun in her face. "Mulder?" She breathed. By this time Mulder had the man handcuffed, and he looked up at her. Both men looked at her in query. Sam felt her whole body begin to tremble. "Fox?" She asked of the FBI Agent. The man in question just gave her a searching gaze. "Do I know you?" She just stared at him. "Sam?" Asked the captive man. He looked from his prot‚g‚ to the man who held a gun at his back, lines creasing his forehead as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Samantha?" Fox breathed as the name the man had uttered finally clicked in his head and the gears once again began running. Relief and wonder smashed over Fox. His long-lost sister! Here? How? Dozens of questions rushed through his mind. But he didn't get a chance to voice any of them because the sharp elbow of the man in front of him hit him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him. As her mentor moved, the other FBI agent trained her gun on him. Acting on a threat to the man who meant everything to her, Sam reached out and knocked the gun aside, confronting the woman. They were about to continue the fight when a gunshot rang out. Sam looked up just in time to see her mentor groping at his right shoulder as a red stain worked its way slowly outwards. Everyone just stared at the wound. Everyone but the wounded. Somehow, HE got up, and, running, grabbed the arm of his prot‚g‚. "Run!" He hissed at her. They took off. Scully prepared to fire at them, when Mulder called out. "Samantha! Wait!" Sam slowed her pace and turned to her brother- brother?, but she didn't HAVE a brother. Then she felt her mentor pulling harshly on her arm, and telling her to keep moving. When Mulder saw a strange man trying to haul his new-found sister away, he did what he should have done years ago. He raised his gun and fired. He was a good shot, but was desperately afraid he would shoot his sister. One bullet hit the man's other shoulder, the other flew wide. He went down with a cry of pain. Mulder expected Sam to come running to him. Expected his sister to cry and sob and tell him all about a government conspiracy to kidnap her. Expected her to do anything but what she did do. Sam saw her mentor go down under gunfire and screamed his name. "Connor!" She lowered herself beside him, placing her hand over his new wound, knowing that the old one was, in all likeliness, already healed. She stayed there as the FBI Agents clamed down and moved slowly towards them. She heard a tentative "Sam?" come from the one called "Mulder" behind her, but she did not respond. She exchanged glances with Connor MacLeod. He nodded almost inperceptively. After so many years together, they could read each other well. He knew what she was planning on doing. He kept watching the approach of the agents, while she watched his eyes. On his signal, she leapt sideways with the grace of a cat, and struck out blindly behind her. Her outstretched foot met only air, and she mentally swore. Just not my day for luck. Then someone grabbed her leg still in mid-air, and twisted. She fell flat on her face, but used the momentum to roll and come up in a fighter's crouch a few feet away. She prepared to lunge again, when a now-familiar voice cried out. "Stop! Stop it, Samantha!" Sam turned to see her "brother" with his gun trained on Connor. Connor was clutching one of his hurt shoulders, a grimace on his face. Fox had probably gotten a lucky shot in, and hit his wound there. Samantha slowly stood up. "Now what's going on here?" Mulder demanded. "Samantha? Is that really you?" Connor gave her an odd look. "You know him?" He asked. She nodded slowly. "He is- or was- my brother. Before you found me." Enlightenment dawned on Connor's face, but Mulder just got more confused. "What do you mean, was?" His voice shook a little. "Fox..." she began. Then sighed. "Can we go somewhere? To talk? Please?" "All right." "Mulder, I don't think this is a good idea." Scully, forgotten at first, now said her piece. "Scully.." Mulder trailed off. Sam did nothing, knowing that now her "brother" had to convince his partner that this was all nice and dandy. Connor met her eyes and silently approved of her telling these people everything. Sam knew it was mainly because Fox had witnessed a Quickening, but resolved to do her best to tell him as little as possible and to get them out of there as quick as possible. Hopefully before anyone tried to administer medical help to the "injured" man. By this time, Mulder had given Scully his puppy-dog face, and she had consented to let him question this woman who appeared to be his sister. Then, with Connor still handcuffed, they all walked back to the hotel. No one noticed when Sam dropped back a pace or two and retrieved Connor's sword from the ground. Connor was the only one that saw the four feet of steel disappear as if by magic under her trench coat. ***** As all four of them arranged themselves on the couch so they were comfortable- comfortable? My hands are `cuffed together, my sword, well, at least Sam got a hold of my sword. And what is going on anyway? Sam never spoke of her brother, at least not much. Not since, at age 15, she conned me into changing her name and getting her new ID with the name Samantha *MacLeod* on them. How much is she going to tell her "brother", I wonder. This could get interesting. Maybe she'll be able to get us out of here without revealing much. That's right, Connor, now slap your head with your hands. Oh, wait, your hands are cuffed behind your back. You could also hope that those FBI Agents will take off these handcuffs, give you their blessings, and wish you well on your way. Right. Not. Hmm, maybe if I close my coat a little more they'll forget I was shot twice. "So," Mulder said, breaking into his musings, "what the hell was going on with the fight in the ally, and where have you BEEN all this time?" The second question was aimed at Sam. She fidgeted in her seat. "I'll tell you, but you both must promise that you won't tell anyone else." She paused for a moment. "Especially anyone in the government." Connor was impressed. She had the wit to swear them to secrecy before telling her secret, not after. Scully responded before Mulder did. "I'm afraid we can't guarantee that. It depends on what you tell us and if it has any threat to us or the nation at large." "I can promise that what I will tell you has nothing to do with the government, and poses almost no threat to the population of America." Connor felt the sarcasm in her voice, and gave her a warning glance. She took the hint and cooled it a bit. "I need your word you won't tell anyone anything, or I can't tell you." "You don't really have a choice whether or not you tell us." "Wrong. You can just haul us in. For what? Murder? Running from the FBI? I'm afraid you lost your murder weapon, and you can't actually prove it was Connor who killed that man. You didn't see him do anything." Mulder bristled at the mention of the murder weapon. Scully had the urge to go outside and look for it, but she had the feeling that if this woman said the sword was gone, it was gone. After a moment, Mulder spoke. "All right, you have our words." Scully gave him a scathing look, but reluctantly nodded. "Ok," Samantha said, "It kinda goes like this..." ***** Sam and Connor sat in the main part of the hotel room after she had given Mulder and Scully a carefully edited version of the truth. She said that there was a Game going on, and that the decapitated man was a part of it. She said that he took it too seriously, and Connor was forced to kill him in self-defense. She also said that whatever lightening he had saw was probably just a freak lightening storm. At that point, Connor had piped up and said that no, the lightening hadn't actually HIT him, just around him. Mulder didn't act very convinced. Scully, on the other hand, almost accepted the perfectly logical explanation. Now the agents stood in the corner of the room, talking. Sam took that chance to move closer to Connor and speak privately with him. "Listen, I donna want to come between you and yer family, lass." Connor said to her. His Scottish accent was coming out, meaning to Sam that he was getting emotional. She couldn't blame him, they were close, and the thought of leaving him scared her. "Family? What do you mean?" "Ye know what I mean. Yer brother over there." Connor looked her in the eyes, motioning with a slight nod in the direction of Fox Mulder. "Connor! He's not my family! YOU are! He hasn't been my family since I was eight years old. YOU are all the family I have." Sam stopped to consider for a moment. "Well, you and your kinsman..." She smirked at him. Connor rolled his eyes. "Aye, and ye could afford ta be a wee bit less friendly with Duncan!" He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Ma little daughter, a wee lass of tender years, is head-over-heels in love with me only other kin." He said it so dramatically. When he mentioned that she was of "tender years", Sam began laughing. By the time he was finished, she was clutching her sides and laughing. Connor was laughing with her, they both needed that release of tension, even though the laughter was bordering on hysterical. Sam hit him none-too-gently on the shoulder. He winced, and she laughed harder. "I am NOT head-over-heels in love with him! I just like him." She tried to defend herself, but Connor gave her his oh-really-you-coulda-fooled-me look and she lost it again. "Care to share what's so funny?" came a dry voice, and their mirth was forgotten. Sam looked into her brother's eyes. "No." was all she said. She saw the hurt there, and continued, "It was nothing." He sat down across from her and Connor. "Sam, we've decided to do the only thing we can. Scully and I have to take Connor here in for suspected murder." Disbelief ran across her face. "Don't worry, we'll assure the court that it was done in self-defense, and hopefully Connor'll go free. Meanwhile, you can come stay with me and..." Mulder trailed off. During his speech, the expression on her face had gone from disbelief to a white-hot rage. Mulder assumed she was mad because she felt betrayed, the man she had been with for however many years had turned out to be a murderer. Sam stared at her "brother". Damn. She swore mentally. Damn, damn, damn. If they take him in, they'll find out that his identity, as far as the government is concerned, is Robert Greene. Then they'll connect it to Russell Nash, and that nice incident in New York with the beheadings'll come up, and then... oh shit. We gotta get outta here. Looking at Connor she knew he had come to the same conclusion. She moved her hand slightly against her coat, and he lowered his eyes in approval. She'd use his sword to cut the cuffs, then give the sword to him and draw her own. Hopefully, the two agents would be too stunned to do anything until they could escape. No such luck. As Sam pulled the ancient katana out of her coat, Scully reacted first and best- she drew her gun only seconds after Sam severed the handcuffs that Connor had exposed. Sensing the threat behind her, Sam turned, lashing out with the sword. Scully stumbled backwards hastily in an effort to avoid being cut, and Sam spared that moment to send the katana flying, hilt first, towards Connor, who had apparently managed to knock Mulder's gun out of his hands and across the floor. Connor caught the sword deftly, plucking out of mid air. He swung it almost casually, delighted to have the familiar blade once again in his hands. He swung it in an arc, then tried to get Mulder down long enough to knock him out. Mulder? Where did he-- A shot rang out behind the Immortal, and for the third time that night, he grabbed a wounded shoulder. He noted with dismay that while his back was to the door, Sam was across the room with two FBI agents in between her and him. She looked up and him and smiled, as Scully raised her gun again. "Meet you out front!" He nodded and turned back to the current problem at hand- Mulder. ** Scully knew that something was wrong as soon as Mulder paused in his speech. Samantha's shoulders were set and her back was stiff. Unconsciously, Scully adjusted her stance so she could reach her gun if needed. It was needed, because as Scully watched in astonishment, Samantha produced the murder weapon out from under her coat! She sliced downward with it, and it somehow managed to be on a collision course with Connor's handcuffs. Not needing to see more, she had drawn her gun. She was about to order Samantha to put down the blade when the woman had spun and sliced viciously at her with it. Scully had thrown herself backwards in a desperate attempt to keep from being chopped in half wide-wise. Then Samantha had given up her weapon to Connor, and although that wasn't much of an improvement, now at least she would be easier to subdue. Which is what Scully thought until Sam had again produced *another* sword out from under her coat. Idly, Scully wondered what else was under there. The new sword was much like the other one, except the katana was slightly shorter and the hilt was black. Scully raised her gun to fire at Samantha, but the tip of the sword swung at it, and managed to knock it from her hands. Sam had just bellowed something at Connor, and now made a grab for the weapon. Scully dove for it as well, and three hands grabbed it at once. Scully had both her hands on the butt of the gun, and Sam had one of hers on the barrel itself. Instead of trying to wretch it away, as Scully expected, Sam used her strength to aim the gun at the window. She maneuvered her hand so she could pull the trigger, and Scully fought desperately to avert the aim of the gun. No luck, as a knee rose to hit her stomach, and several shots were fired at the window. ** Mulder had just shot Connor in the shoulder, when it occurred to him that that was the THIRD time he had shot the man that night. His eyes widened as the revelation came to him and that gave Connor the precious seconds he needed. He threw himself at the door, managing to get it open and himself out it. Mulder was about to give chase as he heard gunfire erupt behind him. He turned in time to see his sister smash full force against the hotel window, gun in hand, and disappear out of his sight. Mulder ran to the window, still not comprehending that his sister was now the enemy. He fought with it, telling himself that maybe Connor had brainwashed her, lied to her, anything but that she truly was against him. He looked out the window, but there was no one there. It was a good thing that they were only on the second floor of the relatively small hotel, or the drop would have been longer. Than he and his partner, a team once again, raced out the door and after Connor MacLeod. ** Connor ran through the halls and to the stairs, opting to skip the elevator. He flew down the steps, at a dangerously fast pace, and burst onto street level. He waited for what was only a few seconds but felt like an eternity, before a black car came roaring around the corner to stop in front of him. He went to the nearest door, the back door, opened it, and threw himself in. Then he felt another body land on top of his. ** Mulder hit the street in time to see MacLeod jump into the back seat of HIS rented car. Without thinking, he threw himself forward, just managing to land in the car. On top of Connor MacLeod. All he had time to say was "Uh-oh" as a fist holding the hilt of a very sharp sword hit him in the back of the head. Then there was only darkness. ** Connor hauled the rest of Fox Mulder's unconscious body inside the car, since it was probably safer for him, considering the speed the car was achieving at the moment. Reaching across the body, he pulled the door shut. Connor settled his head back against the seat. His shoulder was just about healed, and he thought that now he really, really needed a double shot of scotch. Then something else occurred to him. There were no keys in the ignition. "Sam... how did you start the car?" Samantha glanced behind herself at her mentor, then back at the road. She took a turn at a suicidal speed, and, by some miracle of miracles, managed to keep the car from flying off the road. She glanced back again, a grin working its way across her face. "Remember your kinsman's prot‚g‚? Richie Ryan?" Connor groaned in the back seat. The kid. "Yes...?" Connor wasn't sure he wanted to hear this. "Well, we had to find SOMETHING to do while you and Duncan were off reminiscing about something boring that happened 400 years ago." Sam smirked into the rear-view mirror. Connor rolled his eyes. Then Fox Mulder groaned. Connor maneuvered the sword so it was positioned at Mulder's throat. An arm snaked around the man who lay half on top of him to prevent him from going anywhere anytime soon. ** Mulder woke up sprawled in an uncomfortable position on top of what had to be the most distorted car seat in the history of the world. He swam up out of darkness to hear a voice hiss in his ear, "Move and you are dead." Against his better common sense, Mulder opened his eyes. He was staring out the window of a car, being thrown in various directions as the car took turns at a speed that was definetly not within the limit, and all the while a very sharp blade was being held very close to his very vulnerable neck. Somehow, through all the tossing and tumbling, the sword never actually cut him. It then registered in Mulder's head that he was lying on top of Connor MacLeod. In his rental car, with his sister driving. He decided it best to keep his mouth shut for the time being. ** Once it became obvious to Connor that Mulder was going to cooperate, for now, he relaxed a little and took the time to wonder just where they were going. Since he didn't know, he did the only thing he could think of. He asked the driver. "Sam, where are you taking us?" Mulder began to turn his head slightly to get a better view of his sister, but when Connor tightened his grip on the Agent, he thought better of it. "Warehouse." Came the answer to his inquiry. Warehouse? What warehouse? "What?" "Warehouse. There were some abandoned ones this way." Samantha replied distractedly. "And how do you know that?" "I got bored while you were out getting food. I took a walk. No big deal, Connor." Sam was getting annoyed at the questioning, and she let it seep into her tone of voice. Connor got the hint and stopped asking. Finally, the car pulled to a stop. Samatha got out of the car and told Connor to wait for a moment while she checked to see if the door was locked. Or, if so, how hard it would be to break in, Connor mentally added, wryly. He wanted to protest, but it was logical that she get out and check, since he happened to have a pesky Federal Agent half-lying on him. Samantha came back in a few mint\utes. "This'll do. Need help?" "Nope, I got it. Ok, Mr. Mulder, out, and slowly." Connor moved the sword only the slightest bit away from his neck, just enough for him to get out of the car with some sembalance of comfort. Sam led the way into the building. It was bare, with windows high up the walls, cracked cement on the ground, and dust everywhere. Your basic generic abandoned warehouse. Samantha disappeared into a door on the other end of the place. She came back with two chairs, set them in the middle of the room, and retreated and returned with a third. Mulder was pushed none-too-gently into one of the chairs, and held there by a strong hand and sharp sword. "Rope?" Asked Connor from behind Mulder. Samantha made a show of checking the pockets of her trench coat. She had a look of complete concentration on her face, then looked up and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Nope, sorry, musta left the rope in the other coat." Connor shot her an irritated look over Mulder's head, and replied coldly. "Well, would ye check in the other room for any!" Samantha glared. "Yes, Masta. Right away, Masta. Whatever you say Masta." She shot another glare at him and went to check. After a few moments, and the sound of various draws opening, pieces of furnature being moved aside, and swearing, a long length of thick rope came flying out of the door way and managed to land at Mulder's feet. "That work?" Connor sighed, and leaned down to pick it up, keeping the sword at Mulder's throat. "Yeah." Five minutes later, Mulder was tied up securely, Samantha was regarding him thoughtfully, and Connor had his hands on his head, looking as if he felt every bit his real age of 450-odd years. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Connor spoke. "First things first. Food, water, and finding out whats going on with the police and how they're handling losing an agent." Sam sighed. "I'll get the first two, come back, then go see what I can find out about the last." She rose from her seat slowly, and turned to go. "No, I'll go." Connor's voice stopped her and she turned to face him. He walked over to her, and she gave him a look. "What?" "If you think you're going out like THAT, you're mistaken. Unless you WANT to draw the attention of every cop and civilan who sees you." What is she talking about... oh. His brown trench coat had three bullet holes in it, all three surrounded by red blood stains. His shirt was worse. "Well, then, give me your coat." Samantha was about to argue, but he stopped her. "Sam, I need to get out." Understanding dawned in Sam's mind, and she nodded. He just took a Quickening, he needs to sort things out. She took off her coat and handed it to him, while he removed both his coat and his shirt. He pulled on the black coat. Samantha was quite a bit shorter than him, but the coat was large for her, and fit him fine. He was about to leave when her voice stopped him. "Connor?" He turned to face her. "Can I have my sword, please?" "Oh, right." He reached inside the coat for the sword, and tossed it to her. She tossed him his in return. He walked away, while attempting to get the sword in the coat. Finally he turned and came back. "Sam, how do you work this thing?" He indicated the coat with the sword. She laughed lightly at her mentor, and placed the sword in the coat. Connor looked confused for a moment, then groped inside the coat and found the hilt of the sword. "Oh." As soon as Connor left, Fox decided to remind his sister that he was there. He hadn't said anything about the bullet wounds, but now his curiosity got the better of him. "How do you do that?" "Do what?" Samantha responded, looking up at him. "The swords. How do you get them in those coats. `Cause you must have had them in the hotel room, but you were sitting down like normal." Large brown eyes questioned Sam with a puppy-dog look to them. To his surprise, she laughed. "Trick of the trade."