From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 28 Dec 2001 02:55:57 -0000 Subject: Up A Notch by Rebel Source: direct Reply To: runner522@diviy.pair.com Title: Up A Notch Author: Rebel Category: Mulder/Scully friendship, ProfilingMulder Rating: PG-13 (for some violence) Feedback: Please. Be nice, It's my first story. Disclaimer: I don't own the x-files characters. CC and that bunch have all the rights. I don't have any money and am making no money from this. I just enjoy watching them work together. Summary: Mulder and Scully are assigned to a serial killer case already in progress. UP A NOTCH 12:02 a.m. Friday Mulder stuffed his cell phone back into the pocket of his jacket. Reporting in to A. D. Skinner was the last thing he'd had to do, and now he was ready to follow Skinner's orders to get some sleep. How long had it been since he'd really slept? "Goodnight, Mulder." "Goodnight, Rogers." He and Agent Rogers had just been relieved by the next shift at the stakeout. Mulder shrugged trying to ease the tension in his shoulders and headed toward his car. As he reached the door, he glanced at another team at the top of the hill. At least he'd been able to sit out his shift in the comfort of a car, although, He looked up at the serene stars and took a deep breath of the cool night air. If it weren't such a heinous situation, it would be a beautiful night. Mulder nosed his car out into the road and headed to his apartment. ************************************************* He and Scully had just gotten back from a case in Wisconsin. It was a quiet little town, and the sheriff there was not prepared to handle anything much more that drag racing or drunks. When they got there, they found that Sheriff Rey had talked to a few people, but had taken down no notes, no information. So they started from scratch, interviewing each person, carefully taking down testimony, notes about layout, possible motives, anything that might shed light on the case. On the morning of the fourth day, Mulder had approached the sheriff with a theory. At first the sheriff was furious that Mulder was ridiculing him by proposing such a preposterous tale. Mulder held his temper in check and calmly and systematically laid out each step of his theory with the correlating facts. In the end, he convinced the sheriff that, as extreme or even crazy as his scenario might seem, he was definitely serious. Sheriff Rey vigorously argued that there was no such creature outside of legend, but agreed to accompany Mulder and Scully that evening on this "snipe hunt" just to prove he had done everything in his power to solve the case. ************************************************* 12:27 a.m. Friday As Mulder turned the key to his apartment, he chuckled. In his mind's eye he saw again the sheriff's face when he had first introduced Scully and the look of respect on in when they had left the hospital. ************************************************* Sheriff Rey had treated Scully as "the little missus" ever since they got there. After the sheriff's third condescending remark, Scully had drawn herself up to her full 5'2", tipped her head back and looked the sheriff in the eye, assuring him stiffly that she was quite competent, and that her qualifications as an FBI agent were on record if he cared to look into it. Mulder had stayed out of it and, except for the twinkle in his eyes, kept his face carefully passive. He wanted to avoid her wrath and knew anything he might say would suggest she needed someone else to vouch for her. As it happened, that fourth night when they went with the sheriff to lay in wait, they found the creature, or it found them. Sheriff Rey just froze as the creature charged him. Scully made a flying tackle and knocked the creature off balance enough for Mulder to bring it down the rest of the way. They used their sets of handcuffs to secure it until they could get the rope from the truck. Sheriff Rey couldn't thank or praise Scully enough after that. ************************************************* 12:33 a.m. Friday The hot shower felt good and he could feel his tense muscles start to relax. Mulder sighed slightly as his smile shifted to a concerned frown. ************************************************* Scully had been grazed by the creature's claw before it had been firmly secured. Nothing major, just requiring a few stitches after being cleaned out. Mulder had been more shaken by it that she was. But then, he had seen the huge bruise surrounding it covering most of her shoulder. She couldn't see back there. It had happened so fast, she hadn't noticed the force of the blow, just the searing of her skin afterwards. ************************************************* 12:35 a.m. Friday And now, here they were, up against another creature. He looked and talked like a man, but with a mind so twisted he almost made the creature they had caught seem safe. By the time Mulder had been called in, the body count was already mounting. ************************************************* He and Scully had made their official statements to Sheriff Rey at the hospital, packed their bags quickly, and caught a late-morning flight. They didn't bother calling in when they got home, focusing instead on just working on the report; it was always easier writing up a report on a case that could actually point to successful results for their efforts. That night at Scully's apartment, over pizza and ice tea, they had finished off the paperwork for Skinner. Actually it quite late before every "t" was crossed and every "i" was dotted. They were pleased, but exhausted. Scully had taken her shower and dressed in her pajamas and robe while waiting for the pizza. Mulder rebandaged her shoulder gently, following her instructions. Even though he tried to keep his touch light, he winced every time she winced when he touched her sensitive skin. When the report was finished, she showed Mulder out and headed straight to bed. She fell asleep somewhere between her pillow and the foot of her bed where she had put her knee to start climbing up. Mulder flipped on the television when he got home, but fell asleep before the first infomercial finished, comfortable with the job they had done. All was right with him and Scully, so all was right with the world. ************************************************* 12:47 a.m. Friday The hot water ran out, so Mulder stepped out of the shower and toweled off, dressed for bed, and headed for the kitchen. ************************************************* Mulder and Scully handed in their report the next morning to A. D. Skinner, discussed it with him briefly, then were surprised when he didn't dismiss them. He looked at them thoughtfully for a moment, then asked them what they had heard about the Northeast Stalker. They both looked at him blankly. They had been out of town for nearly a week and had heard nothing. Skinner handed a file to Mulder, who opened it curiously, letting Scully read it along with him. The D.C. police had been unable to come up with anything but dead ends. VCS had come up with a little more, but not enough. Whoever the Stalker was, he was smart, planning out his moves almost like a chess player, and seemed to know what the police were going to do even before they did. This case was starting to get people scared, and Mulder had been requested, by someone higher up familiar with his background, to profile the Stalker. Skinner was fiercely pleased that Mulder finally was getting the recognition he deserved. About time, too! However, he gave no indication of this as he gave them the details of who to contact and told them to get right on it. He nodded at them in dismissal and turned back to the papers on his desk as they left. After the door closed behind them, he sat back looking at it. Agent Scully had not been requested. It was not proper procedure, when an agent was getting an assignment, to have another agent sit in. But if Mulder had an assignment, he knew Scully would be involved up to her eyeballs anyway, so she might as well get the information right from the beginning. They were a team, two sides of a coin; you couldn't get one without the other. He thought again about the rumors that were always going around about them. Then he shrugged and went back to his paperwork. ************************************************* 12:58 a.m. Friday Mulder leaned against the kitchen counter as he drank his water, refilled the glass, and glanced at the clock. Had the stakeout netted any results yet? He was still on edge, but that's because the case wasn't closed yet, right? ************************************************* Mulder had memorized every fact in the file Skinner had given him. The VCS had been more than glad to give him access to any information they had. Agent Rogers, senior agent on the case, had seen to that. He checked out each crime site and even the victims' homes. The victims seemed to have nothing much in common, other than being female. Tall, short, thin, heavy, single, married, office workers, homemakers, a nurse, even a factory worker. But the medical examiner determined that they had all been killed the same way: brutally beaten, then disemboweled while still alive. The Stalker always sent a message beforehand, taunting the police, even telling them the timeframe he would be working within. Mulder was in "profiler mode" now, putting the puzzle pieces together, getting inside the Stalker's head. Scully had examined the bodies again, looking for anything that might have been missed in previous autopsies. She had come up with a couple of similarities, nothing major, a stretch even, but added that to the information Mulder was working with. In his mind Mulder had walked with the killer through each crime scene, almost felt his fury as he dealt with each woman. The fury was obvious, one look at the battered bodies showed him that. But what was the catalyst? The motive? There was something in the back of his mind he couldn't quite grasp. It was there as he studied the photographs time and again, but just out of reach. He had come up with a profile, but not specific enough to satisfy him. Then Wednesday the next message from the Stalker had arrived. ************************************************* 1:03 a.m. Friday Would Scully be sleeping now? If he called now, she'd be annoyed; but she'd forgive him. No, let her sleep. No reason for both of them to be awake. ************************************************* Mulder frowned as he analyzed the message. There was an edge to it that hadn't been there before. Frustration? Anger? The Stalker wanted to know why the police didn't seem to be working very hard to pursue him. Didn't they care? Was it too impersonal for them to care? He could make it personal, raise the ante up a notch. Is that what they were waiting for? Mulder thought, What was that missing piece on the edge of his conciousness? He gazed around the office they had given him absently, not sure what he was looking for. No. He was looking at the wrong kind of room. He left the building lost in his own thoughts. Mulder walked into his kitchen. No. Wrong place. He wandered into his living room and walked around slowly, making a circuit of place, fingering this thing and that, glancing at the titles in the bookcase. No. Not here. He checked his bathroom, the toiletries on the sink, opened his medicine cabinet fingering the items in there. No. He gazed around his bedroom, pulling the blanket and sheets from his bed, dumping the pillows from their pillowcases. He looked through his closet and clothes hamper, picking up a few dirty clothes from the floor and dropping them shaking his head slowly. Whatever he was searching for wasn't here. And time was running out; the timeframe the Stalker had given for the next victim had only a couple of hours left - and he hadn't been late yet. Scully opened her door and let Mulder in. She had been home just long enough to change out of her work clothes. If Mulder was here at this time of day and at this stage of the investigation, he was probably getting depressed about not having solved it yet. Maybe he just wanted to bounce ideas off her, though usually he was talking to himself more than her and didn't require a response. She was surprised when he just nodded at her in a preoccupied sort of way, said "Hey", and headed toward her living room. He started methodically on the left side of the doorway and worked his way around the room. He picked items up, turned them over, looking at them, feeling them, replacing them even as his eyes searched for the next knickknack. Scully watched for a minute, baffled, then went to start supper. He would talk to her when he was ready. ************************************************* 1:06 a.m. Friday Mulder headed back to his bedroom and put on his jeans and t-shirt, slipping his gun into place. If they called, he wanted to be ready to go. He came back into the living room and flipped on the television. It was silly to feel so panicky. There were two teams staked at the guy's house, one at his work, and another two at his favorite hangouts. Did he think he was the only one competent to deal with this? ************************************************* Scully could see the frustration on his face as he gave a last glance at the living room, took a quick look at his watch, and headed toward her bedroom. His eyes went from the dresser to the bed to the window and back to the bed. What was it about the bed that caught that little flag in the back of his mind? He looked at the smooth, polished pine headboard, then the feminine bedspread. The fluffy pillows surrounded a cute little teddy bear with a blue bow. He strode over and slowly picked up the teddy bear, rubbing his thumbs over its fur as he held it. This wasn't what he was looking for, but it was close. Suddenly, he was rummaging through her closet, up on the shelf. There was a box there that her mother had sent. Yes, there it was. He opened it up and lifted out the little blue-eyed doll. As he stared at it, something Scully had mentioned about a couple of the women clicked into place. He looked up at the doorway to see Scully with her coat in her hand. His whole body froze. "Skinner just called. VCS just found another victim. She was, they'll take her to the morgue when they finish photographs." Her face was tight. What wasn't she telling him? "I want to do the autopsy myself." He nodded and grabbed his jacket. When they reached her car, Mulder grabbed her arm and turned her to him. He had to lick his lips and take a deep breath before he could tell her what he wanted her to look for when she did the autopsy. She gasped and her eyes widened. But she didn't ask any questions, just nodded and got into her car. Mulder went over to his car and headed toward the crime scene. He noticed the tension as he crossed the yellow barriers to check out the crime scene. The local police looked stunned; even the VCS agents looked shaken. Agent Rogers took Mulder aside and told him. The victim this time was the wife of a junior detective from the police department. He had been working on the case from the beginning. They were married just three years, and he had come in jubilant last month with the announcement, they were having a baby. That had put an end to talk about their rocky marriage and rumors she was stepping out on him. She was just three months along, until tonight. Mulder paled slightly. Skinner must have said something to Scully when he called. That was why she had reacted more intensely that he'd expected. Instinctively, she wanted to protect the woman from a disinterested examiner, needed to check on the baby. The Stalker had said he was going to raise it up a notch, make it personal. He obviously was a man of his word. ************************************************* 1:20 a.m. Friday Mulder realized he'd been staring at the wall since he sat down. He also realized that he knew with certainty the Stalker wasn't going home or to his usual haunts. He had a compulsion, he had to carry out his latest mission and couldn't stop no matter how close on his heels the bloodhounds were. But who would he target? Think, Mulder, think! Get back inside his head! ************************************************* "Mulder." He held the phone to his ear and stepped away from the strategy session. "It's me. You were right." Her voice was tightly controlled. "The abortion had to have been done in the last few days." He took a moment to respond. When he did, she could hear the concern in his voice. "I need to find out how many of them had(he trailed off).I need facts to get a warrant. Can you handle that? Maybe you could get someone to help you?" "I already checked. I thought you might need to know." If he heard the slight tremble in her voice, he didn't mention it. "Each of them had an abortion within three or four days of their deaths." When Scully finally rejoined Mulder, he was on the phone. The other agents were scattered throughout nearby cubicles making phone calls, too. One by one, they brought lists in and gave them to him. A master list was made and now they just had to wait for the warrant. Mulder insisted on Scully taking a nap on the couch in the conference room. He got comfortable in a stuffed executive chair he positioned close by. They'd been up all night, so it didn't take Scully long to doze off. Then Mulder relaxed and drifted into a light sleep just as the sun was rising. Two hours later a court officer came in and gave him the search warrant he had requested. Skinner had pulled a few strings and gotten it in record time. As if on cue, a secretary came in with coffee and rolls for them. Mulder and Scully stood in a small office in the Women's Health Center waiting. The management had been less than forthcoming with information, even with the warrant, protesting about confidentiality. Scully put on her doctor persona and finally convinced them that the Stalker was more of a threat to their clients than she and Mulder were. What would happen if they didn't stop him, and word got out. Women would be afraid to come. Starting one month before the first murder, they compared client names with those on the master list, the one compiled from names of the dead provided by the morgue and all the hospitals, hospices, and funeral parlours in the area. Scully thanked the manager and they left. They walked down to Mulder's car at the corner and stood there for a moment while he phoned Agent Rogers. He needed to get the records from the hospitals on the three names that were a match before the first murder. Then Mulder, noticing Scully's drawn face and silence, suggested they step across the street for an early lunch. Scully shook her head, no, she wasn't hungry. Mulder took her elbow and guided her there anyway. She could have coffee and watch him eat, he quipped. Neither noticed the intent gaze following their movements. ************************************************* 1:25 a.m. Friday The last message had made it clear the FBI was targeted. Who would be vulnerable? There was no way of knowing what their personal lives were like. Any swingers in the group? Maybe someone had gotten a girlfriend pregnant. He tried to remember any rumors, but he usually avoided that sort of thing. Should they all be put on alert? ************************************************* By the time they returned to the office, Agent Rogers had received the faxes from the hospitals showing the records Mulder had requested. It was agreed that the agents would split up into three teams to more quickly investigate the lives and families of each of the three women. The message from the Stalker came at three in the afternoon. It had been thoroughly gone over in the labs and was back waiting for them when they regrouped at the office to exchange information on their leads. Rogers handed it to Mulder when he walked in. The message no longer had just an edge of frustration or anger in it. It was seething. He knew the FBI was involved. He was willing to concede that the police department was just too dense to get him. But surely the FBI was sharp enough to catch him! Did they lack motivation as well? How many lives would be lost before they cared? Should he turn it up another notch for them, too? Make it personal? What would it take? The timeframe this time was till three in the morning. Then he was ranting, becoming incoherent, something about women who didn't appreciate what they had. Now just a jumble of words, not even phrases, the handwriting becoming more illegible with each word. Mulder stared at the paper. The Stalker had been twisted before, striking out almost like a wounded animal. But now he had gone completely over the edge into his own personal hell. What was he capable of now? What would he do? The agents returned to their three leads. Sandwiches were brought in for supper as they discussed motives, and more importantly, opportunity. They compared education levels to that of the writer of messages. They checked over each of the interviews again. They posited theories, possibilities, discarding some, taking some to the next level. In the end, they had narrowed it down to one suspect, Dan Hardtz, whose wife Anna had hemorrhaged to death in a hospital. She had been admitted two days after aborting the baby he had longed for for so many years. In her interview, Anna's mother had stated Hardtz refused to even speak to her since she had taken Anna to the clinic behind his back. They had set up stakeouts at his home, his work, and his favorite hangouts. Now all they could do was wait. ************************************************* 1:45 a.m. Friday Mulder's head jerked up. Suddenly, in his mind, he was watching himself and Scully coming down the walk in front of the Women's Health Center. They had stood there casually while he was on the phone, for anyone to see, to take note of. He was out the door speed-dialing her number before he even had his jacket on. ************************************************* Scully closed her door and kicked off her shoes. She ached all over, especially her shoulder. The autopsies had been emotionally and physically demanding. The little nap on the couch had helped her keep going, but did nothing for her aching shoulder. Aspirin had kept it from being too distracting, but she was going to need something stronger if it wasn't going to keep her awake tonight. She took one of the muscle relaxers they had given her at the hospital, took off her suit, hung it up and headed for the shower. She woke up leaning against the shower wall when the water finally ran cold. Pulling her pajamas on she wondered how Mulder was doing at the stakeout. She wasn't included because she wasn't officially assigned to this case. At least, that's what Mulder said when he insisted she go home and get a good night's sleep. A sleepy smile came to her face as her eyes drooped closed. Sometimes it was nice to have someone look after you, but she'd never admit that to Mulder. Several hours later Scully struggled up through the layers of sleep. Her alarm was going off. In her dream she turned it off, but it kept going. Someone was talking. She came up to consciousness in time to hear her answering machine click off. The clock by her bed glowed 1:48. Grumbling, she crawled out of bed and went to check her machine. No message. She went to put on a pot of coffee, still slightly groggy from the pill she'd taken earlier. It was the middle of the night. Only Mulder would call at this hour and, getting no answer, he would come over to check on her. She pulled on her robe and curled up on the couch to wait. At least she'd find out if the stakeout had produced anything yet. The knock at the door startled her. That was fast. He must have called her from the car. As she started opening the door, it was slammed open and a blow sent her reeling. Another blow caught her before she could regain her balance and Scully hit the floor hard. The glittering of the knife being pulled out of its sheath, then raised and poised, gave her a burst of adrenaline even as she felt the darkness try to take over. She twisted violently to the side as the knife plunged down and knocked aside the arm holding it. One hand was pinned to her chest by the weight of the man on her, the other was struggling to keep back the arm trying to reach her with the knife. But her body was succumbing to the blows it had received and she could feel her strength leeching away. Mulder pulled up to the front of her building blocking several cars, not even trying to find a parking place. His angel must have been watching over him, because he only had a vague recollection of empty highways and not being pulled over for the speed he was going. As he raced into the building, it occurred to him for the first time she might just be asleep. He couldn't just burst in on her because he had panicked. What would he say to her? He had slowed down as he neared her door. Then he noticed it was slightly open and heard the sounds from inside. His gun was already drawn when he saw their figures scuffling on the floor. Mulder hesitated just a split-second. He couldn't take the chance that the bullet might go through Hardtz and into Scully. Then he rammed the man from the side, flinging him off of her and into the wall. It only took a glance to tell Hardtz was not going to be a problem anymore. The hand gripping the knife had hit the wall first, holding the knife in place as his body slid into it, impaling his own neck onto the knife. Mulder turned his attention back to Scully. Her skin was getting pale and very cold. She was going into shock. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd had his share of scrapes. No bones appeared to be broken. He lifted her carefully and carried her to her bed, laying her down flat, making sure she had plenty of blankets. After he called 911, he called Skinner and gave him a brief account of the situation. Skinner would inform VCS and the police department that the case was closed. He let in the EMTs and police responding to his 911 call. He gave the officer a summary, promising that he and Scully would come down to the station later that day to make a full statement. The EMTs had removed Hardtz' body while Mulder was talking to the officer. While one technician was filling out paperwork, Mulder approached the other. "Excuse me," Mulder checked her nametag, "Karen. Before you leave could you check the woman who was attacked?" The woman's eyes flew open. This was the first she had heard of another casualty. She agreed and followed him to Scully's bedroom. Outside the room, Karen asked him a few questions in a low tone, not wanting to disturb Scully. He answered her questions, explaining a little more about what had happened that night. Then Mulder tapped lightly on the door and entered. Scully's eyes opened slowly, but she didn't move. Her face was starting to get a little of its color back. Her eyes questioned Mulder and he explained that Karen was just going to give her a quick check to make sure she was alright. She didn't respond, and after a moment he nodded to Karen to go ahead. Karen checked her pulse, heart, and blood pressure. She checked her for any broken bones or swelling. Mulder lifted Scully forward so Karen could check her lungs, then gently settled her back tucking some pillows behind her. "Well, your wife has had a mild shock to her system and will probably be lethargic for a little while. Other than that, she seems to be fine. Just keep an eye on her and see that she rests. Call the doctor right away if you notice any problems at all." He thanked her, and she and her partner left. Karen had said to keep an eye on her. He peeked in on her, she was sleeping peacefully again. He went out and moved his car. He didn't want the neighbors complaining because he had blocked them. Inside again, he bolted the door, surveyed the area, and set about removing all traces of the intrusion. Scully was sleeping comfortably again after taking the aspirins Mulder brought in to her. He toed off his shoes and lay down on the sofa, his knees curled over the arm, legs dangling. But he had a nice flat area where he could stretch out his back and relax. The only light was from over the kitchen sink and from the television. He had the sound low to keep from disturbing Scully, and had left it on the channel already set, the Sci-Fi Channel. He smiled. Now he could see what Scully watched when she was by herself. But he was asleep before the commercial break was over. All was right with him and Scully, so all was right with the world. End