Title - Lucky Stiff Author - Cyra (ccontryman@ups.edu) Rating - PG-13 Classification - SRA Spoilers - Millennium, Amor Fati Keywords - Mulder/Scully romance. Summary - A third party listens in on a revealing conversation. Disclaimer - Yeah, I don't own them. Whatever. Archive - please, anywhere. Just let me know. Author's notes - This is just to prove to myself that yes, I can write something without sex in it. Sometimes In feel like such a perv. *** Sheriff Ryan Braceros picked up the receiver of his phone with a heavy heart. He hated this. Calling in the FBI on this case was a low blow. He wasn't sure if his ego could stand it. But he had to. This was a triple murder they were talking about here, of perfectly innocent young men. Stamping "unsolved" on the folder wasn't going to cut it. He was going to call in the heavy guns. But he didn't have to like it. After describing the case to the man on the other end of the line, there was a short silence. "I'm going to refer you to a team in the Washington DC bureau. They specialize in cases like this." "What kind of cases? Multiple homicides?" "No. They call these cases paranormal." Protest rose in Braceros' throat, but he managed to remain silent. "This is the best investigative team that we've got, in my opinion. They have a very heavy case load, but I think they'll be very interested in this case. If you're lucky enough to get them to come down, I can almost guarantee at least an arrest, probably a very solid case for first degree. They have one of the highest success rates in the bureau." "So who do I call?" "Call Assistant Director Walter Skinner at this number." The man rattled off a ten digit number and an extension. "And if you wouldn't mind a little advice?" "Shoot." "Mulder and Scully are the best at what they do. Try to stay out of their way. Don't let their theories and their methods throw you. And never underestimate them." "Sure thing," Braceros said, puzzled, and signed off. *** When he finally got ahold of AD Walter Skinner, the man listened to his now well-rehearsed spiel about the case and simply said, "Let me transfer you to Mulder's office." Well, that was easy. "Mulder," said a baritone voice. Braceros repeated his lines. "Let me consult with my partner," the man said. "Don't do anything with the bodies, okay? In the meantime, why don't you fax me a copy of the first two autopsy reports and the police report? If we can swing it, we'll be down there by tomorrow morning." "That sounds great. I was under the impression that you were rather busy, though." "Just reports to compile. This sounds much more fun." When Braceros hung up, he was stung. Fun? A triple murder, one of the victims of which was the son of a friend of his, and this fed thought it would be *fun?* Exasperated, he called the morgue to tell them to hold on the autopsy and went home for some much-needed sleep. *** The next morning, there was another victim. Braceros hunted around the crime scene, poking and prodding for something, anything that would prove of use. And then he saw a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He turned, intrigued, and saw a redhead. She was dressed entirely in black, faced away from him, but it was impossible to turn away. That hair was like a beacon. He'd always liked redheads. Then, she did something extraordinary. She strode straight over to the body and uncovered it. "Hey," he called, sprinting over. "Miss, can I help you?" Good God, he didn't need any reporters or ambulance chasers hunting around. She turned and stood, and he saw that she was wearing latex gloves. "Are you the sheriff?" She asked in a cool, sultry voice. He blinked when he got a good look at her face. For heaven's sake, no redhead he'd ever seen looked like that. She was just too cute for her own good. Or his. He swallowed. "Sheriff Ryan Braceros," he said, touching his hat. "Can I help you?" He asked again. She snapped off her gloves and reached inside her blazer for her ID. "Special Agent Dana Scully," she said. "I believe you called me in on this case." Braceros gaped. Agent Scully was a *woman?* "I was under the impression that we were expected," she said, eyeing him as if he was showing signs of becoming dangerous. "Uh...yeah, yeah," he spluttered, trying to keep a blush down. "Sorry. I hadn't been informed that you had arrived." "I believe you have some autopsy reports for me," she said briskly, putting away her badge and snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. "I'd like to get started on this victim immediately. Can you have him taken to the local morgue?" She was a *pathologist?* This was getting weirder every minute. He mumbled his acquiescence and retreated before he could further humiliate himself. When he was grabbing a bite to eat, across the street at the In-And-Out, Agent Scully was hunting around the crime scene, occasionally consulting with the officers and investigators in the region. He wondered where her partner was. He was pretty damn sure that the voice on the other end of the phone had been a male one, but who could be sure in this day and age? Good grief, a female FBI pathologist? What was next? He saw a blue Ford Taurus pull up and a tall, lanky guy with brown hair get out. The lovely and petite Agent Scully saw, too, and she went to meet him. They had a strange rapport, visible even from his distant vantage point. This had to be Mulder. He wondered briefly if they were sleeping together. Scully showed Mulder around the crime scene, pointing things out, and they consulted for an extended period of time. He was practically a foot taller than her, but didn't seem to dominate her. He fell silent when she talked, and when he answered she never simply nodded or agreed, but added something else to this mystifying exchange. Mulder once leaned down and looked her straight in the eyes from a distance of about three inches, and she smiled, but didn't waver. Mulder's height obviously didn't intimidate her. But there seemed to be something...a hint of unresolved sexual tension, maybe. He guessed that working with a woman who looked like that could be rough on a guy. They left together, and with sudden resolve, Braceros followed. They went to the morgue, a place that he secretly loathed, and with a thumping heart but overwhelming curiosity, he sneaked in behind them. "So what's your theory about these marks?" The voice that Braceros had talked to over the phone was saying when he got down the steps to the examination room. He stayed out of sight, just close enough to hear. "I'm thinking that they're some sort of a ritual cutting," said that smooth, sexy voice. "Perhaps bloodletting for sacrificial purposes. "See this? It must have been made by a very sharp instrument." "Could it have been any sort of an animal scratch?" "I'm putting my money on a knife." She clattered around a bit. "I know you don't like it when I do the internal exam, Mulder. Why don't you go check about that cult I heard about?" "It'll keep. I'm curious about this exam. God, Scully, you're sexy when you do that. Remind me to watch your autopsies more often." "What's sexy? Me removing the stomach?" Braceros' own stomach lurched. "Well, they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." "I don't think this young man is capable of feeling the effects of love or anything else, Mulder." "Maybe I wasn't talking about him, Scully." "So you're saying you want me to feed you?" "I'm going to put a clause in my will. I want you to do my autopsy." "Mulder...." she sounded amused but vaguely troubled. "What?" "I don't ever want to do your autopsy." "Don't want to face the fact that I might die and leave you alone?" "I don't want to know the physiological effects of auto-erotic asphyxiation." Braceros' eyebrows rose at that particularly cutting, but apparently good-natured insult. This woman was a master. "Then you shouldn't drive me to it, Agent Scully." Mulder's voice was teasing but held undertones of something more...carnal. He could have sworn that Scully felt it too, until she snapped, "Would you get serious, Mulder? This is an important case. What if this is the work of the Millennium group again?" "I don't think the Millennium group would target young boys, Scully." "But the staples..." "There's no salt, Scully. It must be a ritual of some sort of silencing. Dead men don't bite. Maybe these people think they talk." "Those men last week didn't talk, Mulder. All they did was walk around and kill people." "Which just proves my point." Mulder fell silent for a few minutes. "How are your wounds healing?" "I'm fine, Mulder, which is more than I can say for you. I can't believe I let you come on this field trip. You're not entirely recovered from that lobotomy." Lobotomy? What the hell? "Will you scar?" Mulder asked in a low, troubled tone, ignoring her censure. "I doubt it. They were well-treated. Mulder..." she sounded exasperated, and Braceros was aching to know what Mulder was doing. With fear running through his body - he wasn't sure what spying on federal agents would get him - he peeked around the corner. Mulder had brushed Scully's hair to the side and was examining some scratches along her neck that looked a lot like human fingernail marks. He was running the pads of his fingers along them. What Mulder couldn't see, and Braceros could, was the expression on Scully's face. Her eyes were mostly closed, and her mouth was slightly open. Every time Mulder stroked his fingers along her neck, her eyelids fluttered. She looked positively erotic. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Scully," he said in a low, rumbling voice. "Mulder, there was nothing you could do to prevent it," she said, her voice sounding perfectly normal, and Braceros wondered how she managed not to show what she was feeling. "I wish I could have." "You were cornered in a basement at the time." "Scully," Mulder placed his hands on her shoulders. "We haven't talked about what happened last week." Scully's eyes suddenly snapped open and she moved a little away from him. "Scully, don't do that." "Mulder, I need to concentrate here." "I kissed you, Scully." Braceros blinked. So, was this a first-time thing? Mulder seemed to be indicating that this kiss was an unprescendented event. After what he just saw, that came as a surprise. "Yes, you did." She pulled something out of the body that made Braceros' eyesight waver. "And the world didn't end." "But did it move?" Braceros raised his eyebrows. He would have to file that one away for later use. "Mulder, you know perfectly well what happened. You were there." "Yes, I was, Scully. And I know what I felt. But what did *you* feel?" "Mulder," she said sharply, and Braceros almost ducked away. "This is not the time for this. I am currently weighing a twenty-two year old's intestines. I'm not feeling very romantic. And I don't want this...this thing that's happening between us to get in the way of our work." "I understand that, Scully." Mulder was contrite. "But it has been on your mind...hasn't it?" "Yes, Mulder. You know it has." "Did you see the way that sheriff was watching you earlier?" Mulder asked. "What?" What? "From the In-And-Out across the street. He was so checking you out, Scully." Braceros flushed. "Mulder..." "He thought you were sexy, Scully. I saw him." "He thought I was unqualified for the job, Mulder. He nearly died when he saw that a woman had been put in charge of his investigation." "He didn't expect you to be so beautiful." Mulder kissed the top of her head. "Just like I didn't, six years ago." "Mulder..." "I know, I know," he grumbled. "But can we talk soon?" "Yes, Mulder. Soon." "Can I take you to dinner later?" "Sure. No place fancy, Mulder, we're on the bureau's dollar." "Come on, Scully, live a little." "What do you call this?" "Dissecting a human digestive tract..." "Mulder, if I promise to let you kiss me tonight, will you go away?" There was a shocked silence. "Would you do that?" "Sure." "I'm outta here." Mulder kissed her hair again and started for the door. Before Braceros beat feet up the stairs ahead of him, praying he wouldn't get caught, he thought he heard Agent Scully laugh.