TITLE: "Autopsy Fun" AUTHOR: Kirsten Kerkhof * CLASSIFICATION: MSR KEYWORDS: S R RATING: R SPOILERS: Tiny bitty one for the Pilot. General timeline: about season 8 (no pregnancy though) SUMMARY: With a serial killer on the loose, Scully gets her chance to shine. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Why would I be the lucky one, huh? They belong to CC, DD, GA, 1013 and Fox and no infringement is intended. ARCHIVING: Sure. I'll do Gossamer myself, all others: you're welcome when you tell me where it's going, 'kay? FEEDBACK: Cherished and worshipped at . Mulders on offer for those who write! XxXxX 21 July, 4:52 pm Here we go again. Autopsy number ... ah man, I don't know. I've lost count. We're in a little town in upstate Oklahoma which would never have made it into the newspaper headlines if it hadn't been for some strange ... something ... preying on the local population for the last three weeks or so, leaving their bodies is various states of hamburger. The one I get to work on this time, however, is in remarkably good condition. Well, he could be identified anyway, which was an indication that whatever killed this man may have been interrupted. That, however, is not my concern. "Subject's name is Marco James Margolis. Male, six foot two in length, weighing 182 pounds," I drone into the microphone hanging above my head. I'm developing a back-ache here and I could do with some more sleep. After two days Mulder and I even decided to take separate rooms, to make sure we got at least some sleep. The local P.D. is getting increasingly nervous because of the failure to apprehend the killer and has turned this into a 24/7 investigation. Mulder and I are running on totally different shifts. "Injuries include three cuts to the calves, a single stabwound in the right thigh and severe bruising around the larynx. Also ..." I turn the man's body slightly onto his side to look at the back. Yep, all there. " ... also the seven slash marks across the spine. Subject appears to have died from asphyxiation, probably strangling. I will now proceed to do the Y-incision." I sigh, resting my hands on the cold steel. Man, I'm getting sick and tired of this. I want to leave this God-forsaken town, go home. Take a bath. I feel like I'm never going to get rid of the smell of formaldehyde and dead bodies. The morgue is surprisingly state-of-the-art, but in such a small town, so isolated from other bigger towns, it just can't cope with the virtual avalanche of bodies. Forget about respect for the dead, we've already crammed up to three bodies together in spaces designed for only one. It's either this or they'll start to seriously smell. Luckily, some bodies are in such states of mince-meat that they allow for smaller containers ... I need to get out of here. But I need to complete this autopsy before I can even contemplate having a break. I grab my scalpel from the table. Let's see some blood and gore ... XxXxX The sun is mercilessly pounding on my head as I walk across the sand-swept town square, on my way to my air-conditioned motel room. I need a shower and a lie-down. "Hey," I hear behind me. It's Mulder, looking hot and dusty. I stop so he doesn't have to run. It's way too hot to run. "Hey yourself. How's it going?" I ask when he's reached me. Together we walk back to the motel. "Terrible," he says. "I don't know what we've got here, Scully. I just can't figure this thing out. It kills with such randomness, almost as if it picks the first person who happens to be walking by." "I can't see a relation between the victims either. Men, women, children. It doesn't seem to add up." "Anyway, did this last guy have those seven slashes on his back?" "Yup, they were all there. But he was strangled," I answer. "The one before that was shot, wasn't he? And the two victims before that were stabbed to death." He sighs. "Ah man, I just can't see a pattern here!" "Maybe that is the pattern," I mutter. I'm hot, my back hurts, and I could do with a massage. "No pattern." He smiles. "You're tired, aren't you?" I nod. "How about you? You've been up and running for days on end as well." He shrugs. "Yeah, well, I ..." "Let's call it quits for the day," I suggest. "We've been working hard enough. Let's go find a restaurant, have a decent dinner for a change and go to bed early. We're not going to be much use to them if we just keep going on and then keel over with fatigue in a day or two." He smiles. "You're right. You decide where we're going to eat, I'll call Sheriff Hardenbrook and tell him we're taking tonight off. XxXxX 22 July, 7:27 am I wake up feeling unusually refreshed. I roll over in my bed and spend a moment just lying and thinking, before I turn over and hit my travel alarm clock. I'd set it for 7:30 but there's no need now for the shrill beeping to interrupt this quiet summer morning. I think it rained last night, the air smells fresh. Mulder and I decided to use our own rooms tonight, even when there was strictly speaking no real reason for it. But we knew we needed every second of sleep we could get. I feel alone though and I think I'm suffering from withdrawal effects. Allowing myself a groan of self-pity I get out of bed. As I pass the mirror over the vanity I see the bags under my eyes. I fear they're never going to go away. I want to go home ... I've just put on my robe to take a shower when someone knocks on my door. "Mulder? What's going on?" He's dressed in running shorts and a very sweaty tee shirt. He shouldn't do this to me now at this time of forced celibacy. "Just had a word with Hardenbrook. There's been another murder." He's jumping from one foot to the other to keep his leg muscles from cramping. No doubt he's been up and about for at least an hour. I moan. "Another one? Does this thing never sleep?" "Apparently not. They need you in the morgue," he says. He stands still, his expression serious now. "This is getting ridiculous. I don't know what to do." I yawn. "Neither do I, but I'll be in the morgue in half an hour. Just gimme time to shower, dress and have a bit of breakfast, okay?" He grins, again jumping up and down. He looks years younger. "Okay, I'll come by sometime this morning to see what you got." I nod. "Good morning, Mulder," I smile. He winks and jogs away. I think I just had a modified déjà vu ... XxXxX "Subject is female, approximately 40 years of age, weighing 130 pounds. Length:" I run the tape measure along her body to check, "5 foot 7. Visual injuries include three crushed toes, bruises on the left leg and around the waist. Face has been mutilated beyond recognition. There are the obligatory seven slashes along her spine. Appears to have died from multiple stabwounds to the heart and throat, facial damage was probably inflicted post-mortem. No obvious signs of any form of sexual assault, which is not surprising in this case." I look at the mangled remains of this woman. I think she was a beautiful woman when she was still alive, but not much of her beauty has been left intact by the monster that took her life. She has not been identified, but it has become very difficult to find people to come forward and identify the corpses. There are rumours about an 'evil eye' going round the town and, to be quite frank, I'm beginning to lose my feeling of disbelief. People are scared to come forward, scared they'll be next. Although, an 'evil eye'? These stabwounds do look familiar ... I switch the microphone off and leave the body, which is not going anywhere anyway, and take the folder I have been using to keep my autopsy results in. I think I'm beginning to see a connection, a pattern and I hope I'm not mistaken. "June 5, cause of death: garotting. June 12, cause of death: gunshot to the base of the skull. Okay. June 15, cause of death: hanging, apparently a suicide. Don't think so. We had one of those last week. June 17, cause of death: stabbing. June 26, cause of death: stabbing. June 30, cause of death: gunshot in the chest!" Oh man, this is adding up! I feel my heart rate increase and my adrenaline pumping as I, finally, see the circle, the connection. "July 2, cause of death: gunshot wound to the throat. That was a messy one, just like ... yes ... like last week's victim ... July 3, cause of death: strangulation! July 5, cause of death: stabwounds to the heart and throat! Oh Jesus, this can't be a coincidence! Even the areas where they were found are a perfect match!" I make a bee line for the phone in the tiny office behind the examination room, dialling Mulder's cell phone. My hands are shaking with excitement. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me. I need to see you right now in the morgue," I say, trying to keep my voice calm. "Right now?" he asks. "I'm kinda busy, but if ... I'm on my way." "Thanks, see you in a minute." XxXxX "Hey, Scully, what have you got?" I look at the door and see Mulder enter. I get up from the chair, putting the folder to the side. I've been studying the autopsy reports, checking and double checking my suspicions and they seem to add up. This could be the break we were waiting for. "I think there is a connection," I say, leading him to the desk where the folder is. "And I think we even can predict where the killer is going to strike next." "We can? How?" I spread out the results before him. It takes no time at all for him to see the link. "He's working a circular pattern, instead of linear one. No wonder we didn't see it right away." When he looks up at me I can see sparkles in his eyes. It's a nice change from the quiet despair I was getting used to seeing. "But we don't know when he's going to strike next, do we?" I take a deep breath. "I'm afraid not. But our best chances are to stake out the place where, according to last time's murder, he's most likely to strike again. That is, if we're not too late already." He smiles. "It's the best we can work with. Hardenbrook is going to be pleased, he was getting pissed off about this guy killing his people right under his nose." He takes out his cell phone and a moment later I hear him talk to sheriff Hardenbrook. I gather up the reports and put them back in the folder. We may need them in court later and at the very least I'll need them for our field report. "They're on their way," Mulder says, putting his phone back in his coat pocket. Then, quite unexpectedly, he draws me to him and kisses me. I yelp with surprise, but I can't say I want to protest. "God, you're fantastic. I'm so proud of you!" I smile widely. "That is something I never thought I'd hear from you," I say. He looks surprised. "No doubt I've told you that before, haven't I?" I shake my head, a bit sad. "No, I would've remembered." He gathers me to him. I'm glad I had the foresight to take off my blood-stained shrubs and gloves while I was waiting for him to come to the morgue. "I've been a self- obsessed bastard if I never told you how fantastic you are," he says. "That's gotta change." We smile at each other. Then he takes a deep breath. "I think I'd better join Hardenbrook and his men. I want to cuff this ass-hole myself for all the trouble he's been giving us." "I'm going to finish this lady's autopsy and clean up," I say, getting a new apron and gloves from the box by the desk. The rest of my stuff is near the autopsy table. "Be careful." "I will," he smiles. "I want to be alive for a little celebration tonight!" I smile, watching him leave the morgue. Then, with a sigh, I return to the corpse, still waiting patiently for my examination. "Well," I say to the dead woman, "I'm sorry we couldn't help you, but hopefully you'll have peace knowing it may be you who made us catch the one who killed you." I take a deep breath and reach for the scalpel. Then I switch the microphone back on. "I will now continue my examination, starting with the Y-incision." XxXxX I've just sewn the woman's body back up when the door to the examination room is flung open. "Scully, consider yourself the hero of this town," Mulder grins, taking me in his arms, then letting go, spotting my apron that's stained with blood and bits of intestine. "Eww ..." "Thanks for the compliment," I smile. "Let me just change out of these bloody clothes." He chuckles. "Be quick. The sheriff wants to congratulate you." "So do you apparently," I smile, walking into the dressing room behind the small office. I change out of my autopsy gear and back into my suit in record-breaking time. I'm feeling elated. Could it be that they have actually caught him? When I re-enter the examination room, Mulder has been joined by at least half a dozen other men, among whom sheriff Hardenbrook and deputy Bowman. "Agent Scully, congratulations," Hardenbrook says, shaking my hand. "It is unbelievable what you've achieved." "Did you get him?" I ask, still a bit amazed that I actually saw this link. "Yes, we got him," Mulder smiles. "He went right where you told us he would go. We sent out officer Miller as bait and he walked straight into our hands." He grins at a handsome young officer to his left who's holding an ice-pack to his head. "We got there in time, but Miller did receive a blow to his head." I see the man smile, but it's not whole-heartedly. I wonder if he was expecting to be serial-killer-bait the day he decided to join local law enforcement. "This town owes you a great deal of gratitude, Agent Scully," Hardenbrook says. "I am sure we could not have solved this quite as quickly without your excellent help." I'm getting a bit overwhelmed by the attention and compliments. "Who was it?" "Gabriel Westerfield," Mulder replies. "He used to work at the local off-license until he was fired at the end of May for helping himself to money from the till. Apparently his wife never suspected a thing about her husband's murderous instincts. She told us he was in the habit of going out on trips by himself at all times of the day and night. Think he went a little crazy after he got the sack and seemed bent on revenge." "He's not talking," deputee Bowman adds, "but we'll get a confession from him." I nod. Maybe they will. Suddenly I'm bone- tired. With the adrenaline flow on a sudden halt I feel the lack of sleep and the strain of those long hours crash down onto me. I need a good long soak in a tub and some fresh air. "I'd like to get changed," I say softly. I'm glad only Mulder can see how tired I am. "Yes, we'll wrap this up in the morning," he says. With his hand in its customary place on the small of my back, he ushers me through the small group of men. I can't deny feeling rather pleased with the looks of admiration I receive. It makes a nice change from the looks Mulder and I usually get when we're walking round the Hoover. "It went just as we thought it would," he says when we're outside. The sun is merciless as ever and I can feel the first drops of sweat run down my back. "How did you survive in this heat?" I ask, looking at him. He grins. "You don't want to see the inside of my shirt collars," he answers. "I've ruined these shirts for good." I smile. "You think we could slip into something a little more casual?" He nods. "I guess so. The case is over, isn't it? We just need to file the necessary paperwork and go back home. Technically speaking we're off duty now." "Yes, certainly for today," I smile, walking into my motel room. It's nice and cool in here. Mulder stops in the doorway. "You can come in." He walks in and sits down next to me on the bed. For a moment we just smile at each other, then I let myself fall back onto the bed, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh of relief. Ah man, this is really nice ... "You were fabulous today," Mulder says, looking at me. "Don't overdo it, Mulder," I grin, but I'm touched by his words. Compliments from Fox Mulder are a rare thing indeed and there's little that can boost my ego more than a word of admiration from my partner. He chuckles. "It's a fact that I can hardly deny, Scully. If it hadn't been for your insight, who knows how many more victims he could've made. You solved this case, no one else." I smile. "Never knew doing an autopsy could be this rewarding. Or this much fun." Then I stretch and roll off the bed. "I'm going to take a shower. I suggest you do the same and we'll change into something more suitable for this climate." I get up from the bed and grab my towel. Then, as I walk past, I bend down and kiss him. "Thanks for the compliment." "Nothing you didn't deserve, Scully," he smiles, getting up as well and walking into his own room. I have a feeling we won't be spending tonight in two separate beds. XxXxX It's nice walking round a town that is so clearly in total awe of my achievement. I've changed into a pair of loose linen pants and a top and I have just bought a big-rimmed hat to shield me from the sun. Although, I didn't exactly buy it, I got the hat for free. The guy behind the counter insisted I should take it without paying for it and there was no trying to convince him otherwise. It would have been embarrassing if I didn't already feel so good. "Nice hat, Agent Scully," I hear behind me. I turn around and see Mulder come up to me. He's grinning. "Yeah, well, I didn't have anything to protect me from the sun," I smile. "You look nice, too." He looks down at his clothes. Gone are the suit and tie. They've been replaced by worker pants and a Tommy tee shirt. "Gotta adapt to the climate, right?" I nod. "Suppose so, yes. Where have you been?" "I've just been checking up with Hardenbrook. He's officially given us the day off, but I wanted to know if Westerfield had revealed anything." "And had he?" He shakes his head. "Nope, hasn't said a word since the arrest. Except for a complaint about the disgraceful way a law-abiding citizen like himself was being treated." "Law-abiding citizen?" I say with disbelief, unable to hold back a laugh. "We had just as hard a laugh about that as you have," he grins. "Anyway, we're expected in the townhall at eight tonight. I think they want to address the population, explain to them what has happened and that the bad guy has been caught." "Why should we be there?" He shrugs. "Dunno. But there isn't much of a night-life in this Podunk-town anyway, so we might as well go, right?" I have to admit it is probably the only bit of entertainment we'll get. "I hope they won't make it too late. I want to hit the sack early tonight, catch up on lost sleep." "Don't worry, it won't be me who's keeping you up tonight," he smiles. "It won't?" I ask. He laughs. "Let's keep that kind of entertainment for when we're stocked up on energy, shall we?" I laugh, resisting the urge to put my arm round his waist. We may have gotten the rest of the day off, but we still can't display too much familiarity. Skinner may know we're involved but it's no use having sheriff Hardenbrook reporting to the Bureau how proud he was of this lovely couple. We'd get questions we'd rather avoid right now. I can't resist lacing my fingers through his, not quite holding hands but touching nevertheless. "This looks like a nice place for lunch," I say when I spot the local diner. I'm starving. I skipped breakfast this morning to get to work on the woman's corpse and it's almost four in the afternoon. I've been supporting myself on adrenaline and an orange and I seem to have depleted that source of energy. We walk into the diner and the waitress rushes up to greet us. "Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, so pleased to see you. Come right this way!" I see Mulder grin as I try to hide a slight blush. "Actually," I tell her, "these people came in before us." "No no, don't worry about us," the elderly man smiles, indicating we should follow the waitress. We don't seem to have a choice ... "Judging by the way we're treated as federal law enforcement, you'd say they've never had a crime up here in their lives," Mulder smiles as we sit by the window, overlooking an impressive piece of scenery. "Lucky town," I say softly. In record time the waitress returns with our orders. "It's on the house," she says, flashing us a grin. "I must say this is excellent service," Mulder says. "Well, it's not every time we get to serve heroes," the girl says, obviously very excited she's serving us. "Bon appetit!" Perhaps she should take some lessons in French, I think, smiling at her. She turns on her heels and continues to help the other customers who are getting a far less rapid service. "This is getting a bit creepy," I say, tasting my lasagna. It's pretty good. Mulder chuckles. "Yeah. If they're getting up in a minute and start doing the hokey- pokey, I'm outta here!" I laugh. "Well, at least the food is real." XxXxX 22 July, 10:12 pm I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, feeling entirely too exhausted to sleep. Too wired, too strung-up. I've taken a shower in an attempt to calm down, but it hasn't helped. This is the weirdest investigation ever. "You should be asleep," I hear Mulder say as he enters my room. "So should you," I counter, softening my words with a smile. He grins. "Yep, I should. I came in to see whether you were asleep or if I could perhaps steal a good-night kiss from a local heroine." I laugh. "This is the first time I've ever received a medal for bravery and merit. And all I did was do my job." He sits down beside me on the bed. He smells clean and fresh with just a touch of himself mixed in. "You did, but this was no ordinary case. And it's nice to see people appreciate what we do." I scoot closer to him so I'm touching his side fully. "It is. Though the attention we got today was getting unnerving." He chuckles. "'Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, *so* honoured to see you'," he imitates what we've been hearing all afternoon. "Did you notice they mentioned your name before mine every time?" "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Agent Mulder?" He smiles. "Absolutely not. Like I said, I'm only proud. Can I tell you one last time how fantastic you were?" I've told him not to compliment me anymore because it was making me nervous, but what damage can it do to have him tell me one more time? "Okay, tell me one last time how good I've been," I say softly. He draws me onto his lap so I'm straddling him. I wrap my arms loosely around his neck. "You were amazing today and there's no one who deserves that medal more than you do." I smile widely, more than a little touched. I thought I was immune by now, but nothing could be farther from the truth. "Thank you," I say softly. "No, I mean it. Usually I get to solve the cases and give the answers, but without your scientific evidence I doubt whether I could draw the conclusions in even as much as 25% of the cases. But it's never you who gets the credit. It's nice to see you stand in the limelight for a change, get all the credit which you fully deserve." "Don't get all soft on me, Mulder," I whisper, feeling teary-eyed. He laughs softly. "Just today, Scully, just today." I smile and lean in, closing my mouth over his lower lip, suckling softly. I smile widely when I let go. "You want a little private celebration?" he whispers. I nod happily. "All right, let me show you how proud I am of you." I think I can go without sleep for a little longer after all ... THE END Kirsten Kerkhof The Netherlands, 26 July 2002 (c) 1