Journal entries are set off by = at the beginning of the line.
 

Holding Death's Hand
By Selena Coontz
Part 1/4

April 17, 1997

=When I think back, I guess that was when everything started.
=At least it's my first memory of what would become my creed.
=Girls are worthless, not good for nuthin' except women's
=work and making babies.  They need to remember their place.
=Uppity bitches.

=I couldn't have been more that 3 or 4 years old when Daddy
=killed the puppies.  We had this big ol' half German Shepherd
=bitch named Maxine that our neighbors dog got to.  She had 15
=puppies.

=They were the cutest little things.  Little blind balls of
=fur.  I wanted to keep every one of them, but there was one,
=oh, she was pretty.  She was black and brown and looked like
=she was wearing a white bib and mittens.

=But Daddy said Maxine had had too many, that she didn't have
=15 teats.  And even if they took turns it would drag her down
=too much.

=So he picked up each puppy, one by one and turned them over to
=look at them.  He made a pile of boy puppies and a pile of girl
=puppies.  There were seven boys and eight girls.

=Then he got a gallon bucket and filled it with water and one by
=one he dropped the girl puppies in it and drowned them.

=When I saw what he was doing I started screaming and crying,
=but he just told me to hush up or he'd give me something to cry
=about.

=I grabbed the puppy I'd already named Mittens and squeezed her
=to myself so hard she cried.  But I wasn't going to let Daddy
=drown her.  And he just went right on drowning them little girl
=puppies one by one.  He'd pick one up and drop her in the water
=and hold her under until she was still.

="Ain't no use keeping these little girls.  Nobody wants a girl.
=You just end up like we did, up to your ass in puppies.  You
=quit your hollerin' now!  I mean it."

=I tried to quit crying, I really did.  'Cause I figured maybe
=Daddy would let me keep Mittens if I was good.

=But when he'd drowned all of the other girl puppies he looked
=at me and said, "Hand her here."

="NO!" I screamed and turned to run off.  But he knew what I was
=about to do and grabbed me before I could take a step.

=I held on to Mittens with all my might but he pulled my hands
=apart and she fell to the ground with a thud.

="NO NO NO NO!" I was screaming my head off and Daddy slapped me
=so hard I saw stars.  He held me back with one hand and dropped
=Mittens into the bucket with his other. She didn't struggle long.
=I guess between my squeezing her and then dropping her she was
=half dead already.

="Quit your bawlin'.  They're just girl pups, good for nothing
='cept making more pups."

Billie Jo Taylor, called BJ by her acquaintences and co-workers
at the Whitesboro Medical Center dropped the pen on the table
and stared at her journal.  It had been 30 years since that
incident had taken place, but the crushing numbness in her heart
had never abated.  Instead, it had turned to rage.

She again picked up the pen.

=If only.  The two most loathsome words in any language.

=If only.

The two words were written with such anger they almost sliced
through the paper.

=I was born deformed.  I was missing a vital part.  I was born
=without a penis.  I wasn't good enough  I was second-rate.  I
=was a girl.  Nothing is lower than a girl.  Girls are sissies.
=Crybabies.

=Girls bleed.

=So I tried to be tough.  To not cry no matter the hurt.  To be
=TOUGH.

=And I am.

=Now I right the wrongs one woman at a time.  Uppity women.
=Women who try to be like men, being doctors and lawyers and
=such.
 
=But they're not men.  They're missing a vital part.  They're
=only fooling themselves with their accomplishments.

=La-di-da.

=I know better.  In my hands they show their true selves.

=They're sissies.  They're crybabies.

=They bleed.

BJ threw the pen down.  Writing had always been an outlet for her,
but it was no longer enough.

No, not near enough.

******************************************************************

September 14, 1997

--There's no one to hear,
  you might as well scream.

The words of Melissa Etheridge blasting through the CD player
couldn't have been more appropriate, thought BJ with wry humor.
She observed the frightened woman before her for a moment before
resuming sorting out the tools and surgical instruments she
intended to use shortly.

The woman's eyes were huge as she watched her captor, who
dressed all in scrubs, appeared to be getting ready to perform
surgery.  She had even removed all of Sarah's clothes and given
her a sponge bath.  The gag had also been removed from her mouth,
but her arms were still bound tightly behind her and her ankles
secured.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.  Her mouth was dried out
from the gag making speech almost impossible, but she was
propelled on by the fear which threatened to overwhelm her.

BJ didn't appear to have heard.

"Please!  Please let me go.  I won't tell anyone about this, I
promise.  I'll never tell a soul.  Just let me go!"

No response.  Her captor didn't even look her direction.

"I've got money.  My father's got money.  He'll give you whatever
you want if you let me go.  Please!"  She began to cry--wailing--
gut-wrenching sobs wracking her slender frame.

BJ turned to face her, interest piqued at last.  Screams.
Music to a blackened heart.  Approaching her, the woman saw her
captor holding the instruments of her torture, defilement.

Demise.

"No!  Please!  Please don't hurt me!  Nononononono.  Her pleas
turned to incoherent screams.

And behind the surgical mask, BJ smiled.

******************************************************************

Walter Skinner observed the two agents seated before him.  He had
a bad feeling about this case, but their respective talents were
desperately needed.

"Have either of you heard of the Death's Hand case?"

"Yes, sir," answered Agent Scully.  "There have been four murders
attributed to the Death's Hand perpetrator.  The victim's bodies
have all been dumped at locations with appropriately grim names.
The first victim was discovered at Death's Hand Cavern and the
name stuck."

"You're aware then," the AD interrupted, "of the characteristics
of the victims."

"Yes, sir."

Scully exhaled before continuing.  "All four of the victims have
been attractive, professional women between the ages of 24 and
37."

Skinner caught the hint of fatigue in Scully's answer. "Agent
Scully, if you don't feel up to this--"

"Of course, I do," she interrupted.  "From what I've read there's
been a terrible lack of hard evidence.  With my background in
forensics perhaps I can discover something that's been
overlooked."

The AD looked at his agent and nodded.  "That's why I want you and
Agent Mulder on this case.  They need help in both forensics and
profiling."

Mulder glanced at Scully, taking in the determined set of her
chin.  "We're on our way," he said.

******************************************************************

Mulder and Scully sat in a conference room at the Whitesboro
Police Department headquarters, the case files spread out before
them.

"Find anything yet?" Mulder asked.

"No.  Whoever's doing this is apparently smart enough to wear
gloves, and even though there's evidence of sexual assault, he's
either wearing a condom, failing to ejaculate or assaulting them
with an object."

Mulder pressed his fingers into his eyes, rubbing them.  They had
been at it for three hours now and he had nothing to show for it
except a slight headache and further proof of the cruelty humans
were able to inflict on one another.  But this guy took the cake.
His victims did not die quickly or easily, but slowly,
agonizingly.  He looked at Scully as she went over the autopsy
results.  He knew her slightly sick visage was mirrored in his
own expression.

"C'mon.  Let's get out of here and call it a day.  I'll even buy
dinner," Mulder offered.

"I'm all for calling it a day, but I'm not hungry," Scully
answered.

"You have to eat something--" Mulder began.

"No.  I don't.  I'm not hungry."

"But--"

"I'm fine, Mulder.  Let's just get out of here," Scully said as
she picked up the files and headed toward the door.

Mulder watched her, exasperated, but knowing there was nothing
more he could do except take her back to the motel unfed.
Shit, he thought.  Who am I kidding?  I don't feel like eating,
either.  He grabbed his coat and case files and followed her out.

******************************************************************

BJ Taylor watched the news with interest.  The Death's Hand
murders dominated the news and continued to make headlines even
when there was nothing new to report.

Reporters, thought BJ as she sat in her easy chair eating
microwave popcorn.  I wonder what they'd do if they ever had
to get a real job?  Buncha pretty-boys and sluts.  But it was fun
watching them speculate.  They were so far off, and they hadn't
even found the last body yet.

She chuckled to herself.

"Local authorities have requested assistance from the FBI and two
agents arrived today from Washington.  Police are hoping the FBI's
forensics expert and profiler can come up with something that will
break the case."

Billie Jo sat up and listened.  The game just moved up a notch in
difficulty.

"Wouldja look at that," BJ said to herself as the camera showed
Mulder and Scully.

She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.  "All right!  Fresh
opponents.  Now it's getting interesting."

******************************************************************

September 17, 1997

"Scully, they've found another body," Mulder blurted as soon as
she opened the door to her motel room.  "According to those at the
scene, it looks like she's only been dead a couple of days."

"Give me twenty minutes," Scully said.

Mulder nodded and left.

Scully stood for a moment, leaning against the now-closed door,
her head pounding.  The headache emanating from right between her
eyes.

She touched her nose gingerly.  No blood at least.  The headaches
seemed to be getting worse almost daily.  She didn't know how much
longer she could hide her pain from Mulder.  Or how much longer
she could endure taking nothing stronger than Tylenol or
ibuprofen.

She crossed the floor to her bag and retrieved three ibuprofen,
swallowing them all at once with a small sip of water.  She felt
her stomach roil and willed the caplets to stay down.

It was going to be a long day.

******************************************************************

"The victim was found under this brush, but no real effort was
made to hide the body," said one of the officers at the scene.

"Do we have an ID yet?" Scully asked.

"Not a positive," answered Detective James.  "But she matches the
description of a woman reported missing three days ago named Sarah
McIntyre.  Her husband said she never came home Saturday after
going shopping that afternoon.  Her car was found at the mall,
undisturbed.  No one saw anything.  Her father owns three car
dealerships and is pretty wealthy.  We were all hoping this would
turn out to be a kidnapping for ransom even though she fit the
profile of the other victims."

Mulder scanned the beautiful scenery surrounding the small lake.
"How did this come to be named Lake Fear?" he asked the detective.

"It was originally named after a man who owned much of the land
surrounding the lake and his name was Feare," he said pronouncing
the name using three syllables.  "But over time it was shortened
to Fear.  It's been called Lake Fear all of my life."

"Hmm," Mulder nodded and approached the body, taking in it's
position and looking for any clues in the surrounding area.

Scully walked over and knelt down.  The body was covered with
dried blood, cuts, bruises and contusions.  The victim had
apparently been kept alive for several hours to account for that
much bruising.  Scully stood and turned from the scene, walking
a few steps away.

Mulder glanced at her, but knew better than to inquire if she was
OK, especially in front of the other officers.  He was very aware
of how much these kinds of cases bothered her.  But he was also
very aware of her pride and self-reliance.  She would come to
terms with this.  She always did.

******************************************************************

Scully felt a little more human after a shower and more
ibuprofen.  They had gotten a positive ID on the body.  It was
Sarah McIntyre, or at least what was left of her.

Even after everything she had seen, she was still very much
affected by the brutal, inhuman acts one person could inflict on
another.  There had been precious little evidence found in her
examination and autopsy of the body.  The duct tape used to bind
the woman's hands and feet was a common type found anywhere and
had been wiped clean of any prints.  But she had discovered a hair
caught in some of the victim's blood on the body.  It didn't match
the victim, so was the only tangible clue they had at this point.

She had also discovered, with this victim at least, that the
weapon used in the sexual assault was a wooden dowel.  She had
found two tiny splinters in the victim's vagina.  Scully wondered
for a moment if the perpetrator was impotent or just wanted to
inflict as much pain and terror as possible.

She shook her head slightly (and gingerly, not wanting to awaken
her headache) to clear it.  Getting into the perps head was
Mulder's job.  It wasn't a place she liked to go.

At that moment there was a knock on her door.  She opened it and
Mulder stood there holding a bag and two drinks from the Dairy
Queen across the street.

"I was afraid if I asked you wouldn't be hungry.  But I figured
if I showed up with food in hand your good raising would prevent
you from impolitely ignoring my gift," Mulder said with a small,
hopeful grin.

Scully smiled and allowed him entrance.  "You're in luck.  My mom
always taught me to never slam the door in the face of someone
bearing food."

"Your mom is a wise woman," said Mulder as he placed the bag and
drinks on the small table in her room.

Scully sat down at the table.  "Do you think that Sarah
McIntyre--"

"Nope.  No talking business.  Eat."

"Is that an order from my superior?"

"If that's what it takes to get you to eat," he said.  "But I'd
rather think of it as an invitation from a friend," he finished
softly.  Mulder observed his partner, wishing there was something
he could say that would help.  Something that would convey the
feelings he had for her without scaring her away or having her
erect her walls.  He knew she cared for him too, but now with the
cancer he was afraid they were running out of time.  And she was
so damned stubborn, refusing help from anyone.  Refusing to even
talk about it.

Scully relaxed a bit after Mulder's words and realized with some
surprise that she WAS hungry.  The burgers smelled delicious.

"Well, what are you waiting for?  Give me my burger."

They ate in companionable silence for awhile and Scully thoughts
turned to the man before her.  His passion, his honesty, his
integrity.  The core of goodness that resided in his soul that
nothing and no one had been able to corrupt.  She had been doing
a lot of thinking about him - about them - lately.  Facing your
own mortality changed your perspective.  She no longer had all of
the time in the world.  And she wondered, as she slowly chewed
her hamburger, if not only did she love him, but if somewhere
along the way she had fallen in love with him.

Impossible, her sensible side shouted.  Don't go there, it
warned.

But the part of Scully that loved, the part that was truly
sensible wondered what was so wrong with wanting your best friend.
Weren't there much worse things in life than falling in love with
your best friend?  But what if it was awful?  What if he didn't
feel the same way?  What if it ruined everything?

And the most frightening thought of all, what if it was wonderful?

"Penny for your thoughts," Mulder said.

"Nothing," Scully answered quickly.  "I was just thinking about
how this burger hit the spot."

"Oh.  For a minute there you looked like you were visiting a very
nice place.  I wanted you to take me with you," Mulder joked.

She looked at him, her expression unreadable.  "If I go, maybe I
will."

******************************************************************

Mulder and Scully spent the next morning going over the autopsy
results and their thoughts on the case with Detective James and
his team.

"The autopsy results were remarkable predominately because the
body was so devoid of evidence," explained Scully.  "All of the
blood and hair except for one strand belonged to the victim.
The perp is smart.  I believe he is wearing gloves and possibly
even more protection like a hair net to keep the forensic evidence
so low.  You don't usually find this little evidence in an
encounter this violent unless the body's been washed afterwards,
which obviously isn't the case here."

"One hair is more than we've had so far," said Detective James.
"Let's just hope it doesn't match her husband's.  What about you,
Mulder?  Any thoughts yet on who's behind this?"

"Nothing I'm willing to go public with yet.  The victims share
similar physical characteristics in that they've all been petite,
attractive women, but hair color, etc. has run the gamut.  They're
also well-educated professional women.  Not the kind who are
likely to fall prey to an abductor without a fight.  And no one
has witnessed anything out of the ordinary at the abduction scene.
That means he's somehow gaining their trust.  They're willingly
going with him.  Ted Bundy gained control by being charming and by
claiming to have a broken arm and seeking the victim's aid.  It
almost has to be something like this, but it still isn't adding
up right.  I want to go over the files more before going public
with a profile."

"I'm going to talk to the ME.  Perhaps he noticed something that's
not in his report," said Scully.

"Okay.  The public is frightened.  I need to tell them something
soon if we're to avoid a real panic." said Detective James.

Scully nodded and stood to leave.  "I'll see you this afternoon,"
she said.

All eyes watched her leave.

"You're a lucky man, Mulder.  Getting to work with someone who
looks like that," offered one of the investigators.

"I'm a lucky man to get to work with her, period," answered Mulder
in a tone that discouraged further comment.  Yes, he thought to
himself, I'm a very lucky man.

******************************************************************

Scully returned from the ME's office and went directly to her
motel room.  Her head was pounding.

She had learned little from the aging medical examiner.  He was a
kind, soft-spoken man with a gentlemanly air.  And although Scully
felt he had done his best with the previous autopsies, his best
wouldn't be good enough to crack this case.

She decided to take some Tylenol this time and settled down on the
bed with the autopsy report from the first victim.

In two minutes she was asleep.

******************************************************************

BJ pulled her journal out from its hiding place under the sofa.

September 18, 1997

=The FBI is now on the case.  I guess that proves I'm too smart
=for the local cops.  They needed help.  Haha.  The newspaper
=this morning ran a picture of the two FBI agents.  Special
=Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.  Fox?  What kind of nitwits
=did he have for parents to hang that kind of moniker on a kid?
=And Dana Scully.  The paper said she was a MD and a forensics
=expert.

=I could have been those things if Daddy had let me.  I'm smart
=enough.  How come SHE gets to be a MD and a forensics expert and
=a FBI agent?  How come she's petite and beautiful and gets to
=travel around the country with a good looking guy named Fox?
=Why?  WHY, DAMMIT??

=Is she better than me?  No. Is she smarter that me?  Hell, no!
=I'll show her which one of us is best.  I'll show them all.

BJ threw the pen down as she angrily swiped at the tears rolling
down her cheeks.

"I'll show 'em," she said softly.

******************************************************************

"Scully?"  Mulder knocked on the door harder after getting no
response.  "Scully, are you OK?"

"I'm fine, Mulder," Scully said as she pulled the door open.  "I
fell asleep."

"Oh.  Sorry I woke you up.  When you didn't answer, it just
worried me a little."

"It's OK.  Come on in."  Scully stepped back and motioned for
Mulder to enter.

"Did you find out anything new this afternoon?" Mulder asked.

"Only that this county needs a new ME.  Dr. Wyatt was gracious and
courtly in his behavior, but he's past his prime as an ME.  He had
nothing new or additional to offer."

"Well, we had Dairy Queen last night.  You up for Taco Bell
tonight?" Mulder asked as he motioned at the other fast food
restaurant across the street from their motel.

"Sure.  Let me get my shoes on."  The nap and Tylenol had done
wonders for Scully and she felt almost good.  She slipped her
shoes on and they walked to the Taco Bell.

"I'll have a two taquitos and some water," Scully gave her order
to the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter.

"And I'll have a burrito supreme, two tacos and iced tea," ordered
Mulder.

They took their order to a booth and sat down opposite each other.
After removing their food from the tray, they began to eat.

Mulder was looking at his burrito, but was aware of Scully taking
a bite of her taquito.  He saw her raise her head and looked up,
thinking she was about to say something.

Her eyes were rolled up in her head and her face was twitching.

"Scully?  SCULLY!!"  Mulder jumped up and grabbed her, believing
her to be choking on the taquito.

He turned her in his arms so she faced away from him and began
doing the Heimlich maneuver on her.  Nothing.  She was
unconscious, twitching in his arms, and most importantly, not
breathing.

"Call 911," Mulder yelled to the kid behind the counter as others
in the restaurant gathered around them in shock, horror and morbid
curiosity.

Mulder continued his frantic efforts to dislodge the taquito he
believed was blocking her airway.  Over and over he thrust his
fist in and up against Scully's solar plexus trying to restore her
breathing.

"An ambulance is on the way," the kid yelled to Mulder.

Mulder tried to force a finger into her mouth to reach the taquito
since the Heimlich manuever was failing miserably, but her jaws
were clenched tight.

Just when he was on the verge of total panic, when he thought it
would be too late regardless, he realized she was breathing again.

"Scully," he pushed her hair back from her face as he gently laid
her down with her head in his lap.  "Everything's going to be OK,"
he said as he rocked back and forth fighting the tears which
glistened in his eyes.  "It's going to be OK."

******************************************************************

End Part 1
 
 

Holding Death's Hand
By Selena Coontz
Part 2/4

The ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance at the
Whitesboro Medical Center.  Scully had regained consciousness
at the Taco Bell, but Mulder had insisted that she be examined
at the hospital.

The stretcher was rolled inside and emergency room personnel
rushed to meet the attendants pushing it.

"What have we got?" asked the large, but friendly and competent
looking nurse.

"Thirty-three year old female who reportedly choked on some food
at the Taco Bell.  When we arrived she was unconscious but stable.
She subsequently regained consciousness, but remained disoriented.
By the time we finished our examination she was pretty much back
to normal.  But, she's an FBI agent and her partner insisted on
bringing her in, wanting her to have a complete examination.
According to him, she has a nasopharyngeal carcinoma."

BJ nodded and took the paperwork from the EMT, pushing the
stretcher into one of the curtained alcoves.

"Nurse," called Mulder hurrying after her.  "I want to go with
her."

"That's OK by me if it's OK with her.  How about it, miss?"
asked BJ.

"Yes, he can come." Scully knew Mulder would go nuts waiting to
hear something.  It was better to keep him in the loop.

"I'll need to get some information from you.  If you can fill out
your part of the paperwork while I ask you some questions, it
will speed things up."

"That's fine," answered Scully as she took the clipboard with
paperwork from BJ.

"OK, tell me what happened."

Scully began the story with Mulder taking over the explanation
at the point when Scully lost consciousness at the restaurant.
It was the first time Scully really heard what had happened.  She
had still been disoriented when the EMT's were questioning him
and didn't recall the details.

"I had a seizure," she said as she realized what had happened.
"I didn't choke on the taquito at all."

"But why would you have a seizure?" asked Mulder, fear again
clenching his heart.

"There are any number of possibilities.  Many people who have
seizures never know the cause of them."

"But maybe you did choke and don't remember it," Mulder argued.

"Mulder, I'm a doctor.  Choking doesn't work like that.  I
remember everything going black and being unable to react.  I
would have had to choke for at least 45 seconds before it would
cause a seizure.  All you saw me do was raise my head and when
you looked at me I was already seizing."

Mulder looked at her grimly and nodded his agreement.
Admitting she was right scared him.  Mulder knew one possible
reason she would have a seizure included her tumor spreading
into her brain and wreaking havoc.

BJ watched the pair's interaction with interest.  Upon hearing
the EMT say that Dana Scully had cancer, she had felt some
compassion for her.  Perhaps Dana Scully's life wasn't so
perfect after all.  But watching the man and woman interact,
she sensed a closeness between them that she had never had
with anyone.  Bitterness closed her throat for a moment, the
jealousy pushing any other thoughts from her mind.  But now's
not the time, BJ, she scolded herself.  She forced the anger
and bitterness back into the little black box she mentally
kept the bad feelings in.  She looked back at Scully, her
friendly and professional mask in place.

"I believe I have everything I need.  The doctor will be in to
see you in a few minutes."  BJ turned as if to leave and then
stopped and faced them again.  "Aren't you the two FBI agents
brought in to assist in the Death's Hand case?"

"Yes, we are," answered Scully.

"It's a terrible thing, what he does to those women.  Are you
about to catch the guy?" BJ asked.

"We're still working on it.  We're not at liberty to discuss
it."

"Sorry.  I'm not familiar with police procedure," said BJ
politely.  Bitch!  Miss High-and-Mighty!  Who does she think
she is?  'We're not at liberty to discuss it,' BJ singsonged
in her mind.

"That's OK.  There's no reason for you to know," Scully said
gently as she glanced back up at BJ.  The look of pure hatred
Scully thought she saw in BJ's eyes was gone before she could
be sure of its existence, and replaced by one of uncertainty.

*****************************************************************

"Look, Mulder, Dr. Jenkins says I'm fine," Scully argued.

"That's not exactly true, Scully, and you know that.  He said
your EEG was normal, but you wouldn't let him do a CT scan or
MRI because you wanted to wait and have your oncologist do it."

"Regardless, nothing is going to be solved tonight by us
arguing about it.  Go to bed, Mulder.  It's been a long day."

Mulder sighed.  "All right.  But you call me if you start feeling
strange."

"I will.  I promise."  Scully didn't tell him that by that time
it would likely be too late.

Scully locked the door after Mulder left and leaned back against
it, sliding down until she sat on the floor.  Her eyes burned
with the tears she had refused to shed and her throat ached from
her effort to swallow the lump in it.  She hugged her legs to
herself and then drew her arms up to her knees and lowered her
head to rest on her arms.  Finally, she let the tears fall.

She shed tears for the fear she faced in acknowledging her body's
betrayal.  Seizures and cancer.  Seizures were so degrading.
There's nothing like falling down in the middle of whatever you
were doing and jerking and twitching and slobbering and maybe even
wetting your pants.  Thank God she hadn't wet her pants.  And what
kind of illogical disease is cancer, she wondered?  What's the
point of it?  It grows and grows and gets bigger and spreads until
it kills its host.  Such a stupid disease.  No moderation.  No
control.  Rather ironic Scully thought, that she, who put so much
importance on self-control, would be felled by two of the ultimate
body-out-of-control conditions.

She shed tears for what she had lost.  Her sister.  Her father.
Her innocence.  Her belief that the government she worked for was
good, or at worst, indifferent.

And she shed tears for what she would never have.  Children.  A
husband.  A home.  Her own family.  Grandchildren.  Hell, she
thought.  I won't even live to see the big celebration that
welcomes the year 2000.  Or the new millineum in 2001.  And she
shed tears over that.

Spent, finally, she stood and walked to the bathroom to wash her
face.  Her head hurt from all of the emotion, but she felt better
for ridding her body of the bitter tears.

She took two ibuprofen and went and laid down on the bed.  Her
thoughts turned to Mulder and she wondered how he felt about her.
She knew, as aggravating as he could be at times, that she really
cared for him.  When Eddie Van Blundht had impersonated him, she
had been going to let him kiss her, but the real Mulder burst in
on the scene just in the nick of time to stop it.  Mulder was hard
to figure.  She knew he cared for her, but like he said, he was no
Eddie Van Blundht either.  Perhaps it was the same fears that she
wrestled with that held him back from pursuing her.

Well.  They no longer had the luxury of time.  If something was
going to happen it would have to be soon.

But do I have the courage to start it, she wondered?  Is it fair
to drag Mulder further into my life when it's coming to an end?
Is there even any point at *this* point?

She pondered these questions and all of their ramifications until
she finally fell asleep in her clothes, in the middle of the bed,
curled up in a ball.

******************************************************************

Mulder reached behind his head to retrieve the errant pillow that
was sliding down the space between the bed and the wall.  "Damn
motel beds," he cursed as he stood to push the bed back against
the wall.  He flopped back down and tossed the remote on the end
table.  He had been flipping through the cable stations since
returning to his room, but nothing had captured his interest.

And this night, his mind also refused to focus on the murderer
they had been sent to capture.  Instead, it kept returning to his
partner.  He was worried about her.  Really worried.  The seizure
was an ominous development.  Sure, maybe it meant nothing and
would never happen again, but with a tumor so close to her brain,
what were the odds of that?

He had felt so helpless when he thought Scully was dying in his
arms.  What am I going to do without her?  The thought hit him
like a punch in the gut.  The reality he had refused to accept was
demanding recognition.  Scully was sick and getting sicker.  Her
treatments, while perhaps slowing the malignant growth, were not
conquering it.  Unless a miracle appeared, she was going to die.

Did she really know how much she meant to him?  Probably not.  He
was lousy with relationships and theirs was so complicated.  He
had never felt right asking for more.  He knew he was a self
absorbed jerk much of the time and he wanted what was best for
her.  And typically, he didn't believe he was best for anyone.

He thought of the night he burst in her apartment and caught
Eddie Van Blundht, masquerading as himself, about to kiss her.
And she had been going to let him.  They had never talked about
that night, both too embarrassed by the ramifications of it.  But
she had thought it was him, so did that mean she wanted him to
kiss her?  Was she, as he was, held back by too much history
between them?  Both afraid a rebuff would ruin what they had?
Or was inertia the problem?  Both of them believing before the
cancer that they had all of the time in the world?  That time was
running out was all too clear.  Someone had to make a move or it
would soon be a moot point.

Mulder sighed and closed his eyes.  "Scully," he whispered.

******************************************************************

BJ's Journal

=Daddy used to go deer hunting every winter.  Some of them guys
=who went deer hunting never got a thing, but not Daddy.  He
=always got his limit.  And we didn't waste it either.  We ate
=venison all winter.

=When I was about 10 or 11 he started bringing the deer home to
=cut up himself instead of paying some butcher to do it.  That way
=it would be Done Right.

=I remember the first time he had this big ol' buck strung up by
=its antlers from a rafter in the garage.  I wanted him to be
=proud of me.  To not be sorry he just had a girl instead of a
=Son.  So I went out there to help him butcher that deer.  I'd
=never seen anything get skinned before.  It amazed me how its
=hide just peeled off.  I wonder if a person's skin would peel
=off like that?  I may have to try that sometime.

=The other thing I'll never forget was when he cut through the
=skull so he could keep the antlers.  He started right above the
=eye sockets and that deer's eyeballs went PLOP PLOP when they
=fell to the garage floor.

=He told me he was real proud of me.  Most girls woulda been way
=too sissy and squeamish to help out with such a thing.  He even
=bragged about it to his huntin' buddies.  The next time they
=went, all of his friends planned to take their boys with 'em.  I
=wanted to go SO bad.  I had proved I could take it, hadn't I?  I
=had proved that even if I didn't have a weiner, I could be his
=Son, couldn't I?  But I couldn't go.  It just wasn't right,
=bringing a girl around all them men and boys.  It just wasn't
=right.

Fighting the tears she felt stinging her eyes BJ bit the inside
of her cheek, hard.  Big girls don't cry Big girls don't cry Big
girlsdon'tcryBiggirlsdon'tcry.  Repeating her mantra, she felt
her control growing.  After a few minutes, she again began to
write.

=Guess who I met today?  The famous FBI Agents Mulder and Scully.
=Ha!  They don't seem all that bright to me.  They're apparently
=still looking for a man.  Nobody's ever going to figure it out!
=There I was, right under their noses and they barely glanced at
=me.  HaHa.  Course they're probably too busy boinking each other
=to pay any attention to anyone else.  Especially someone like
=me.  Yeah, the way they were looking at each other, I'm sure of
=it.  My tax dollars at work.  It figures.

******************************************************************

September 19, 1997

Mulder and Scully spent the day visiting the scenes where the
other bodies had been dumped.

"Death's Hand Cavern, Bane Road, Hate Avenue, Lake Fear.  You
know, Scully, this guy's certainly sending a message with his
choice of locations."

"What message is he sending?"

"Most bodies are dumped in a manner to show contempt for the
victim.  But this guy thinks he's smarter than us.  It's a game to
him.  He's showing contempt for the victims and the police."

"So far, he's been pretty smart.  I don't think I've ever seen a
case so devoid of physical evidence.  Most of the time you'll have
plenty of physical evidence, it's just a matter of finding the guy
that matches it.  But this time, we have one hair.  One hair!
That's amazing considering the extent of violence the victims
have endured."

"He's covering himself up somehow," Scully continued. "He's
wearing an apron...or overalls...or...surgical scrubs!  Gloves,
hair cover, the whole outfit!  That would explain the lack of
evidence."

"Yeah, it would," Mulder replied, nodding his head in agreement.
"I think you may have something."

******************************************************************

Whitesboro Medical Center

Listen to that bitch!

"How many times have I told you to double-check, hell, triple-
check an order for meds?  I've had it with your incompetence.
I'm turning in my recommendation for your removal before you kill
somebody."  Dr. Anne Roberts was seething with anger.  She took
her patients well-being very seriously and had no time or sympathy
for fools.

Laura Atkins, LVN, trembled under the verbal onslaught.  "I'm
sorry, Dr. Roberts.  BJ and I were talking and I got distracted.
I'm SO sorry.  I promise it will never happen again.  I need this
job.  Please don't turn me in!"

"It's too late.  You should have thought of that before," Dr.
Roberts responded, her voice as hard as steel.  "You've made too
many little slip-ups since you've been here.  I want you out
before there's a serious incident."

Laura burst into tears, turned and ran down the hall.

"And what's with you?" Dr. Roberts glared at BJ.  "You know what
a scatterbrain Laura is.  What are you doing talking to her when
she's getting a patients meds?"

BJ didn't answer, but didn't avert her gaze, either.  She wouldn't
give her that satisfaction.

After a moment, Dr. Roberts eyes dropped to the chart she held,
"Well, nothing serious happened this time."

"It's time for my break," BJ said coldly as she turned and walked
off.  Laura was a sweet little girl, thought BJ, just doing the
best she could.  I'll get that holier-than-thou bitch.

******************************************************************

Mulder sprawled across the bed in Scully's room that evening while
she sat in a chair by the table.

Sitting up, he said, "This case just doesn't add up.  Why would
these women go with this guy so willingly?  There's never been any
indication of a struggle.  Especially with all of the publicity
the case has received."

"Well, maybe there's a connection between the victims that hasn't
been discovered yet and they all know him,"  Scully responded. "Or
like you said, he's gaining their trust somehow."

"I have Officer Perez looking for any missed connection between
the victims.  He seems really sharp so maybe he'll come up with
something.  The Ted Bundy type guy...I don't know.  It's possible,
but there's been so much publicity from the very start, and these
aren't stupid women we're talking about.  I just don't see all of
them going off willingly with some man they don't know."

"Which puts you back to someone known by all of the victims."

"This guy's making me nuts, Scully.  It doesn't add up.  I want
to catch him.  I want him off the street.  But I also want to
meet him."

"I know how you are intrigued by these monsters."

Mulder gave her a small smile.  "People have always been intrigued
by monsters, Scully, human and otherwise."

"Well, I'm not.  I want to find him so he can't hurt anyone else.
Then I want to lock him up and throw away the key."

"We can throw away the key after I meet him."

"Deal."

Mulder picked up a case file and began looking through it.

Scully looked at him bent over the case file.  He looked so...
earnest.  A lock of his hair was hanging down on his forehead
and she wanted to reach out her hand and push it back.  And then
run her hands through that hair.  And then....

He stood up, stretching.  "It's getting late.  Guess I'll head
back to my room."

OK, Scully, are you a woman or a wimp, she asked herself.
Start talking.  Tell him you want him to stay.  Tell him you've
been thinking about him, about the two of you, and you want more.
More, before it's too late.  More, while there's still time to
enjoy it.  Tell him what you need.  That you need him.  That
you're ready to open yourself up.  That you're tired of having to
keep your thoughts about him under control.  That you're ready to
be vulnerable.  Tell him you're ready to risk everything.  Tell
him you love him!  Say something!

"Goodnight, Scully."

But the words wouldn't come.

She watched him leave, her heart in her throat.  "Goodnight,
Mulder."

*****************************************************************

BJ sat in her van in the dark parking lot at the Whitesboro
Medical Center, watching, waiting for Dr. Anne Roberts to get
off.  Dr. Roberts wasn't going to get very far, though.  All of
those hours BJ had spent under the hood of a car helping her
daddy had paid off.

When BJ was a teenager, she had spent hours watching her dad
work on their cars.  He was a darn good mechanic, but saw no
reason to try to teach her anything.  When she asked him specific
questions he would answer, but he didn't volunteer information.
What was the point?  BJ knew, had she been a boy he would have
taught her everything he knew.  But she was a girl.  She didn't
need to know about carburetors or timing chains or any of it
except where to put the gas in and to get the oil changed every
3000 miles.

And BJ was counting on Dr. Roberts knowing nothing about cars.
That even if she looked under the hood she wouldn't know how to
fix it.  If everything went as planned, Dr. Roberts' car would
start, but she wouldn't get far before it died and refused to
start again.

She had parked so she would have a good view of both the exit
and the car.  Finally, her patience paid off.

Dr. Roberts walked slowly toward her car.  She looked weary.
BJ knew she'd been on duty for 24 hours and probably had only
one thought in her mind.  Getting home and sleeping for about
10 hours straight.

BJ watched as she got in her car, started it, and drove out of
the parking lot.

She let her get a head start before she began following her.

Not quite a mile from the hospital BJ saw Dr. Roberts pull her
vehicle to the side of the road and BJ pulled over in front of
her.  She got out and walked up to the window.

"Having trouble?" she asked. "I thought I recognized you driving
in front of me, so when I saw you pull over I stopped.  With
everything that's been happening lately, a woman by herself
can't be too careful."

"Oh, BJ, thank you.  I'm so glad you were behind me.  I'm going to
have to break down and get a cel phone one of these days.  I don't
know what happened.  I was just driving along and it died.  Now it
won't start."

"Don't worry about it," BJ said.  "You must be exhausted.  I'll
take you home and you can call a wrecker and have it towed to a
garage and deal with it tomorrow.  Come on."

"Thank you," said Dr. Roberts as she got out of her car.  "You
don't know how much I appreciate this."

"My pleasure," said BJ as Dr. Roberts strapped herself into her
van.

BJ had removed the inside door handle months ago and had the
"child safety lock" on the electric windows which made it
impossible for someone in the passenger seat to open their window.

BJ pulled back out into the street.  Traffic was sparse at this
time of night, but there was no use in taking any unnecessary
chances.  She didn't want anyone recalling seeing her van near
Dr. Roberts' abandoned vehicle.

"I really do appreciate this--"

"Shut the fuck UP!" BJ screamed as she slammed her fist into
Dr. Roberts face.

Dr. Roberts cried out as blood spurted from her nose.
While she appeared momentarily stunned, BJ turned off onto a
darkened, deserted side street.

As soon as she got stopped BJ grabbed the duct tape, and undoing
the seatbelt, quickly bound Dr. Roberts' wrists behind her.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Roberts asked.  She seemed dazed,
completely out of it.

"I said, shut the fuck up!" BJ ripped off a piece of the duct
tape and covered her mouth, silencing the doctor for now.  She'd
get to make all of the noise she wanted soon, thought BJ with
anticipation.

She headed home.  God, this was going to be great!  She'd never
exterminated anyone she knew before and Dr. Roberts was PERFECT.
With her long brown hair and blue eyes, she was quite attractive.
And arrogant.  Very proud of that doctor's degree, she was.  One
thing BJ had discovered, the higher they thought they were, the
lower and quicker they crashed.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun.

****************************************************************

End of Part 2
 

Holding Death's Hand
By Selena Coontz
Part 3/4

September 20, 1997

--I've been a bad, bad girl.
               -Fiona Apple

BJ looked in satisfaction at the carnage before her.  Dr. Roberts
had, indeed, been the best one yet.  She had screamed and screamed
and cried and bled.  God, when she had stuck the dowel in her she
thought Dr. Roberts was gonna have a stroke and die right there.
She screamed so loud the veins had popped out in her neck and
forehead.  She had screamed so much that by the end, she had no
voice left at all.

Of course, by the end, she didn't have much of anything left,
thought BJ with good humor.  It was a good thing she was off work
today.  That had allowed her to really take her time and enjoy it.
And she had just the right place to leave Anne.  No more "Dr.
Roberts" for her, nosirree.  She was nothing but a hunk of meat
now.

BJ had found Cryer Street in her Mapsco and had been saving it
for someone really vocal.  Anne had earned that privilege, and
besides, BJ was feeling magnanimous.  Shoot, she had been a
coworker.  She deserved the best and Cryer Street was in an
upscale part of town.  She'd feel right at home there.

Life is good!

******************************************************************

"Scully, they found another body and this one is fresh.
Apparently killed and dumped early this morning,"  Mulder said
excitedly as soon as Scully opened her door.  "And he's really
escalating."

"Why?  What's happened?" Scully asked.

"A large portion of the body was skinned, and by the amount of
blood on the body, apparently while she was still alive."

"Oh, my God," Scully exclaimed as nausea flipped her stomach over.
"We have to find this guy, Mulder."

"I know."

"Where was this one found?"

"Cryer Street.  Over on the east side of town."

"So, let's go."

******************************************************************

Mulder waited for Scully to finish the autopsy outside the ME's
office.

Dr. Roberts had been ID'ed by her elderly father.  He was nearly
80 years old and in poor health himself.  Far too frail to undergo
a parent's worst nightmare.  He identified her and then collapsed
facedown in the hallway, dead.  The shock and stress too much.
So Dr. Roberts' family had a double tragedy to endure.

Scully emerged from the autopsy room looking pale and weary.
The fine lines on her brow and around her mouth more evident than
usual.

"Let's get out of here, Mulder.  Take me back to the motel."

When they arrived, Mulder asked, "Can I bring you some dinner?"

"No.  I just want to take some ibuprofen, shower and go to
sleep."  Seeing the concern in his eyes, she added "I'm OK."

Mulder nodded and watched her disappear into her room.  Entering
his room, Mulder sat down with all of the information from the
latest case.  He HAD to figure this out.  Everyone was counting
on him.  What in the hell was the matter with him?  Why couldn't
he get a handle on this guy?

******************************************************************

BJ's Journal

=I'm still flying high from the rush I got killing Anne.  Oh,
=excuse me, 'Dr. Roberts'.  HaHa.  I didn't know the thrill could
=be so amplified by killing someone I knew.

=Can't do it too often, though.  They'll figure it out.  What am I
=saying?  They're NEVER going to figure it out.  Those cops and
=feebies will go to their GRAVES looking for a man!

=I am woman, hear me ROAR!  HaHa.

******************************************************************

September 21, 1997

Mulder and Scully were back in the conference room at the
Whitesboro Police Department along with other members of the
investigative team getting chewed out by the Chief of Police.

"The Mayor is all over me.  Even worse, the press is all over me.
Women are afraid to leave their homes.  My phone rings constantly
and I've got nothing to tell anybody.  How can a guy do all of
this and leave no clues?  And what's with you two?" he asked
looking at Mulder and Scully.  "I thought you were the 'experts'.
And what have you contributed?  'I don't know' from him and 'one
hair' from her," he said as he pointed at each of them.

"Sir," Scully said, "Agent Mulder and I have investigated many
serial killer cases and this one is different.  Profiling is not
an exact science.  It's based on probabilities and past cases
involving similar circumstances.  But the fact that there are so
few clues puts this case out of the norm by itself.  Combine that
with the fact that these women are apparently going with this guy
willingly, and you've got a very confusing case.  Of course, we
don't know if Dr. Roberts went willingly since her car was found
broken down on the side of the road, but there was no evidence
of a struggle at the scene.  And the other women were all taken
from public places and could have screamed for help if they were
being forced."

"I don't care how confusing or out of the norm it is, I want some
answers and I want them quick."  The Police Chief stalked out of
the room.

"Well, you heard the man," said Detective James.  "Everyone has
their assignments.  Let's get him some answers."

"Perez," Mulder called as everyone stood.  "Anything?"

"No, Agent Mulder, I haven't been able to find anything in common
between the women.  Their jobs, hobbies, careers, clubs, kids - no
kids, doctors, churches, everything is different.  Sarah McIntyre
and Elizabeth Woods both went to McFarland High School, but not at
the same time and there's no indication that they knew each
other."

"OK," Mulder sighed. "Thanks."

"You ready?" he turned to Scully.

"Yeah, I just want to--" Scully stopped in mid-sentence and
turned her face up and to the right, her eyes rolling up in
her head.

"Oh God!  She's having a seizure again," Mulder cried as he
grabbed Scully and lowered her to the floor right before she
collapsed.  Mulder turned her on her side as he had been
instructed to do at the hospital in the event she had another
seizure.  Blood began pouring from her nose.

"Get me some tissues!"  Mulder began wiping at the blood
coming from her nose, trying to staunch the flow.  The blood
quickly soaked through the tissues and Mulder grabbed another
handful.  Those, too were quickly saturated.

"Call a code!" barked Detective James.  "She's losing a lot of
blood.  You need to get her back to the hospital."

Mulder nodded.  "Tell them to hurry!"

******************************************************************

Scully woke up in the Emergency Room with BJ taking her pulse.
The EMT's in the ambulance had managed to get her nosebleed
stopped, but not before she had lost an alarming amount of
blood.

She felt very weak and confused.  "What happened?  Where's
Mulder?"

"Don't worry," BJ said patting Scully's arm.  "He's just around
the corner filling out your paperwork."

"Why am I here?  Dr. Jenkins said there was no need to rush me
to the hospital just because I had a seizure."

"You also hemorrhaged from your nose."

"Oh, God," Scully said softly. "Would you please ask Mulder to
come in here?"

"Sure, hon."  BJ was still feeling great.

She stepped out of the room.  "Agent Mulder, she's awake and
wants to see you."

"Thanks."  Mulder went to Scully's side and took her hand.  She
looked so pale, her skin looked almost translucent.  He traced
the outline of a blue vein on the back of her hand.  "You're
going to have to quit this," he said, "my heart can't take it."

Scully gave him a weak smile.  "Do they know what happened?"

"Yeah, apparently you had a little blood vessel burst in your
nose, probably because of the strain of the seizure on your body.
In most people, this would never happen, but in your case, since
that part of your body is already weakened...."

She nodded.  "So, are they going to keep me or let me go?"

"Dr. Jenkins wants to talk to you.  I think he wants to give you
at least one unit of blood.  You really lost a lot.  And I think
he's going to want to start you on an anti-convulsant."

"OK.  Wake me up when it's over," she said weakly.

******************************************************************

When Scully left the hospital that afternoon she at least felt
human again.  The pint of blood had done wonders to rid her of
the weakness she had felt.  And Dr. Jenkins had given her a
prescription for Tegretol.  She hoped it worked.  God, she'd had
a seizure in front of all of those cops.  As a doctor she knew
epilepsy wasn't contagious, and didn't mean she was crazy, or
possessed by the devil, or retarded, or any of the other things
people feared or thought about those who had seizures.

But losing control like that and making a spectacle of herself
was still embarrassing.  Thank goodness Mulder had been there.
It was hard on him to witness it, but she knew he would take
care of her.

They sat in her motel room again.  Scully had insisted they get
back to work on the case.  And she really did feel better.

"Scully, you said something this morning that stuck in my head.
Then all hell broke loose when you had the seizure so I forgot
about it.  But remember saying that this guy was out of the
norm?"

"Yeah."

"I think that's where I need to concentrate.  What are some
things that would make this guy out of the norm?  What could
be so different that would make doing a profile almost
impossible?"

"I don't know, Mulder, he's a genius, maybe?  Or so deranged
as to be off of any scale of normalcy?"

"No, there's been plenty of very intelligent killers and
plenty of insane ones.  No, it's something else....

They sat in silence, each working over the problem in their
mind.

Finally Mulder spoke.  "Scully, what if it's not a man at all?"

"What do you mean?"  Damn, I hope he's not about to blame
little gray men for this, Scully thought.

"What if it's a woman?"

"A woman?  But women aren't serial killers.  You know as well
as I do that 99% of all serial killers are male and the few
female ones have usually killed their own children.  There
have been a couple that have killed men, but I don't recall
any that have killed other women.  And certainly not with
the visciousness and sexual overtones present in this case."

"But think about it Scully.  It fits!  The lack of semen
anywhere in or on the body, the use of an object to commit
the rape."

"But that just indicates the guy's impotent.  It probably
explains the visciousness of the attack.  He's angry because
he can't complete the act."

"No, Scully.  The games she's playing.  She has no fear of
being caught because she knows we're looking for a man,"
Mulder said, his excitement growing.  "And it explains why
the victims went without a fight.  Women are taught from
childhood to beware of strange men, but not to fear other
women.  A woman would be much less suspicious of a situation
being a set-up or turning deadly if another woman is involved.
Yes, I'm sure of it, Scully!  The killer is a woman."

Scully wasn't sure it wouldn't be easier to convince the
detectives it WAS little gray men.

*****************************************************************

September 22, 1997

"You damn sure better be right, Mulder," said Detective James
the next morning.  "The Chief's going to have your theory
published in the newspaper today.  Then all hell's going to
break loose.  You really think the killer is a woman?"

"I'm sure of it."

*****************************************************************

SHIT SHIT SHIT!!  BJ heard the announcement on her van radio
after completing her shift.  How had they figured that out?
SHIT, did they know it was her?  No, they couldn't.  They would
have come after her at work.  It wasn't like they didn't know
where she was.

So they knew the killer was a woman, but didn't know her
identity.

The advantage was still hers.  She knew their identities.  And
where they were staying.

Yeah, everything was still cool.  She was still best.

******************************************************************

Mulder had spent much of the day completing the profile and
trying to avoid the press.  Now back at the motel, he and Scully
continued to discuss the case.

"She has a serious gender identification problem," Mulder
explained.  "She's a woman who both hates and is envious of a
certain type of woman, but given the sexual nature of the
attacks, I think there's some attraction, too."

"So you think the killer is a lesbian?" Scully asked.

"No.  I don't believe she acknowledges, or in fact even realizes
on a conscious level, the attraction herself.  I think that's
where some of the visciousness comes from.  Her denial.  I don't
believe she's in a sexual relationship with anyone."

"I'm not so sure I agree with the decision to keep the likelihood
of the killer being in the medical profession secret from the
public.  The nature of the victim's injuries, the precise cuts,
the location of the bruises, point to someone who knows how to
inflict pain without killing the victim.  At least until she's
ready to kill them,"  Scully added.  "That, coupled with the
probability of the killer wearing surgical garb points to someone
in the medical field."

"I agree with you Scully, she probably IS in the medical
profession.  But she's already going to be outraged that we've
determined she's female.  I think that may be enough to cause
something to happen.  If nothing breaks in the next couple of
days, we can go public with the whole profile.  That ought to
blow her cool completely."

"It's almost 7 o'clock and I'm getting hungry," Mulder said.
"Do you feel like going with me to get something to eat?"

"Sure.  Just let me freshen up and I'll meet you in 10 minutes."

"OK.  See you in 10."

******************************************************************

BJ's Journal

=Well, it seems the feebies weren't as feeble as I imagined.
=That bitch and that pretty-boy will get what's coming to 'em.
=I would say they'll never know what hits 'em, but that's not
=true.  I want them to know.  I want them to know that BILLIE
=JO TAYLOR was smarter than the both of 'em put together.
=Smarter than them and the whole Whitesboro Police Department!

=I never killed a boy before, but I'm getting kinda excited just
=thinking about it.  I'll kill that bitch first, right in front
=of him.  But I'll do it nice and slow, so they both get the
=full benefit of the experience.

=Then I'll kill him, and I bet I can make him scream.  HaHa.

=Make a boy scream.  I remember when I was about 12 or 13 years
=old Aunt Mae came over with my cousin Stevie.  Stevie was
=about 6 or 7.  We got to playing in the bedroom and I talked
=him into pulling his pants down.  I had this big ol' fat
=rubber band and I wanted to pop him on his weiner, but he
=started cryin' and said no.  I was afraid Mama would hear him
=bawlin' so I told him I wasn't gonna do it and to shut up and
=quit bawlin' like some kind of titty baby.

=But I won't have to be afraid of anybody hearing Agent Mulder
=scream.  I bet I can make him scream like a girl.  HaHa.

=I wonder if Daddy would scream?

=No. Not Daddy.  He's a Man, not a pretty-boy like Agent Mulder.
=But I wonder....  No, I can't think about that right now.  I've
=got a lot to do.

*****************************************************************

Scully took some Tylenol and freshened up her makeup.  She even
daubed a little perfume on her throat and between her breasts.

Right on time, she met him out front at their rental car.

"I'm starving," Mulder said.  "You want to try that Pepper's
Restaurant down the highway?  Perez said it was good."

"Sure, that sounds fine," Scully responded.

Pepper's turned out to be nicer that Scully expected with an
excellent selection of dinners.

They ate slowly, both enjoying the evening.  Although the case
wasn't solved, they both felt a lessening of the pressure with
the profile completed.  At least they had an idea of who they
were looking for.

Mulder watched as she ate.  He wanted so badly to reach out and
touch her.  To hold her hand.  Anything to have contact.  It was
so frightening to think her life was being eaten away, cell by
cell.  But she looked radiant tonight.  There was color in her
cheeks that had been missing for weeks.  He supposed it was the
infusion of new blood.

But he didn't dare take her hand.  She deserved so much better
than whatever he had to offer.

"Mulder?"  She swallowed and he watched her throat move,
imagining his mouth on her throat.

"Hmmm?"

"There's...there's something I've been wanting to talk to you
about."  She raised her eyes to his.

"What?"  Oh God, I could get lost in those eyes, he thought.

"I...I want to tell you..." She looked down at her plate for
a moment, then raised her eyes back to his.  "That I love
you," she said simply.  "I had a whole speech written out in
my head.  I had a lot of things I wanted to say, but it all
boils down to those three words."  She swallowed and
continued, I love you, Mulder, and I have for a long time.
I just wanted you to know while there's still time.  Before
it's too late and I can't tell you.  I don't want to die with
regrets...."

"Oh, Scully!" Mulder reached for her hands across the table,
his heart in his throat.  "Ever since your first seizure..."
he paused for a moment trying to gather his thoughts.  "I know
you're sick, but when I thought you were dying right there in
front of me, I realized...I mean I REALLY realized how much
you mean to me."  He studied her face intently before
continuing.  "Why do you have to be dying for us to be able to
say these things?" he asked.

"I'm not dead yet, Mulder."

"I know.  But the thought of losing you terrifies me.  I'm not
sure I could survive it.  We're going to beat this thing.  I
promise!"

"I don't want to talk about that, Mulder.  I just want you to
take me back to the motel and spend the night with me."

"You mean...?"

"Yes.  I'm past worrying about my job, or Skinner, or Cancerman,
or any of them.  I may not have a long time left, and I'm not
going to waste any more time living by their rules.  I'm not
giving up, but I'm not going to waste any more time, either."

"Are you sure?  This is really what you want?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Mulder nodded.  "Then, let's go," he said as he raised her
hand and lightly brushed his lips across it.

He saw the shiver wash over her body.

"Let's," she answered.

****************************************************************

End of Part 3
 
 

Holding Death's Hand
By Selena Coontz
Part 4/4
 

BJ had gathered up everything she figured she'd need to
capture Mulder and Scully alive and bring them back to her
house.  Her house was ideally suited for her purposes.  It
sat far back off of the street in a heavily wooded area and
the house nearest to her was vacant.  It was a good quarter
mile to her closest neighbor and they kept to themselves.
Just the way BJ liked it.

She pulled her van into the motel parking lot and and found
the doors to the agents' rooms.  Both rooms were dark.

Good.  They had probably gone out to dinner.  Well, they'd
have a nice little surprise waiting for them when they got
back.  I guess I oughta be honest, thought BJ.  It'll be a
BIG, BAD surprise.  HaHa.

This is fun.

***************************************************************

Mulder and Scully got in their car for the five minute drive
back to the motel.  Both were silent, each lost in their own
thoughts.  Both nervously anticipating what was to come.

***************************************************************

BJ broke into  Scully's room with surprising ease.  Man,
these places aren't safe, thought BJ.  You wouldn't catch
her stayin' in some motel room.  Nosirree.  Security at these
fleabag motels stink!

Oh, well.  She supposed she shouldn't look a gift horse in the
mouth.

She entered quickly and shut the door behind her.  Waiting for
her eyes to adjust she got her bearings, then headed to the
bathroom to wait.

***************************************************************

When Mulder and Scully arrived, Mulder jumped out of the car
and hurried around and opened the door for Scully.  He took her
hand and helped her out of the car.

"Turning into a gentleman suddenly?" she asked.

He gave her a sheepish grin.

They entered her room and Mulder tossed his jacket onto a
chair.  He turned to her.  "Scully, are you really sure about
this?" he asked seriously. "You said you didn't want to have any
regrets, but I want to be certain that you won't regret this
tomorrow."

"Only if you're a lousy lover, Mulder," Scully said with
dry wit.

"Oh gee, NOW I feel no pressure," he said, but he grinned
back at her and it broke some of the awkwardness between
them.

"C'mere," he said as he pulled her into his arms.  He still
felt she could do better than him, but given her situation,
who was he to deny her if this was what she really wanted?
And he wanted her so much.  They stood, her face turned up
to his as they searched each others eyes for doubts.  For
any hint that this wasn't right.

But all they saw in each others eyes was love and joy and a
glimmer of anticipation.

Mulder lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips across
hers, then moved so they stood cheek to cheek.  Hugging her
to himself, he whispered "I love you."

Taking his face in her hands, Scully pulled him back away
from her and said, "I love you, too."  Then she guided his
mouth back to hers, opening her heart as she opened her lips.
Accepting their love as she accepted his kiss.

"Well ain't this just the cutest thing?" BJ asked as she came
walking out of Scully's bathroom where she had been hiding.

They jumped apart, guiltily startled at being caught, then
both noticing the gun BJ held in her hand aimed right at them.

"I knew you two were boinking each other on taxpayer money.
I knew it!"

"Mulder, it's the nurse from the ER.  It's her!" Scully
exclaimed.

"You got it, sister.  A little late, but you got it.  Both of
you get your hands up and out where I can see them."

BJ walked over and pulled Mulder's gun from the holster,
tossing it on the floor.  She then began patting him down
searching for any other weapons.  Turning to Scully, she did
the same thing, her gun landing with a loud *thunk*.

She stepped away.  "Now, *Agent* Mulder," BJ's voice dripped
with sarcasm as she emphasized Mulder's title, "With your
left hand, I want you to slowly reach down to your belt and
get your handcuffs."

Mulder did as instructed, desperately looking for a way to get
the upper hand while he still had hands to use.  He knew once
he and Scully were cuffed their chances of escaping BJ were
minimal.

Mulder held the cuffs out, hoping BJ would come closer and
take them.  Then, when she got close enough he would jump her.
If he got killed, so be it.  At least Scully would have a
chance to escape.

But she didn't go for the bait.  "Put the handcuff on your
right wrist," she instructed.

Mulder did, seeing no other option at this point.

"Now, put both of your hands behind your back and cuff your
wrists together."

Oh, Jesus, Mulder thought.  It can't come to this.  Not now.
Not when Scully just said she loved me.  Oh, please God, if
you're even there, just do this one thing for me.  Please.
Just get us out of this mess.

"Get you wrists cuffed, NOW!  Or I'll blow her pretty little
head off while you stand there debating it."

"Scully..." Mulder looked at her, helpless to do anything but
comply with BJ's command.

Scully stood, resolutely looking ahead, but turned slightly
when Mulder said her name.

"No matter what happens, know that I love you."

"Shut up!" BJ screamed. "Keep your declarations of undying
love to yourselves!"

"Now, *Agent* Mulder, I want you to--"

"SCULLY!" he cried as Scully pitched to the floor in the grip
of a seizure.

"Well, shit!" BJ exclaimed as she watched Scully's body
go rigid and begin to jerk. "Son of a bitch!  Now, we'll
have to wait about 20 minutes for her to wake up.  I can't
have us drawing attention to ourselves by carrying her out."

"I'm gonna drape your jacket over your shoulders to hide
your cuffed arms," she told Mulder. "When we leave here,
I'll have my gun pointed at your girlfriends head, so you
better not try any funny stuff."

BJ kept an eye on Mulder as she walked over to the chair
where he had thrown his jacket.  She looked away momentarily
as she picked it up.

"Drop it!"  Scully ordered as she scrambled to her feet, but
with her gun pointed squarely at BJ.

"NO!" BJ screamed as she turned back toward Scully, ready to
fire.

But Scully was faster, and put two rounds into BJ before she
could pull the trigger.

BJ fell back against the chair holding Mulder's jacket, blood
pouring from wounds in her chest and shoulder.

"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed.

"I'm fine," she responded as she hurried to BJ's side to kick
the weapon away from her.

"Well, I'll be damned." BJ sat, consciousness in her eyes
dimming, but she fought to find Scully's eyes.

"All I ever wanted was for Daddy to be proud of me...to not be
sorry..." she wheezed.  She grabbed Scully's arm. "It ain't over
yet," she vowed.

BJ collapsed and Scully laid her gently on the floor and
put pressure on the more serious wound to her chest.  Grabbing
the phone from the nightstand, she dialed 911.

****************************************************************

At the news conference the next afternoon the Chief of Police
was able to announce that the Death's Hand murders had indeed
been solved.

Besides police discovering BJ's journal at her home which gave
details from each murder, Scully was able to determine that the
one hair found on Sarah McIntyre's body had indeed, come from BJ.

Mulder was lauded for his very accurate profile.  And Scully was
termed a hero for her quick thinking in faking the seizure and
saving the lives of Agent Mulder, herself, and an unknown number
of other possible victims had BJ succeeded in her plan.

"Let's get out of here," she said to Mulder after the initial
rush of the reporters questions had been answered.

"Sounds good to me," Mulder agreed.

They made their way out of a side door with only a couple of
reporters following them.  But after every question received the
same response of 'no comment', the reporters let them go.

They got in their rental car and headed back to the motel.

"You know, reading BJ's journal, I felt kind of sorry for her,"
Scully said.  "What she did was terrible, of course, but inside,
she was still a little girl crying out for her father's attention
and acceptance."

"Yeah," Mulder replied. "I saw her father last night at the
police station.  He was completely bewildered by BJ's attitude.
He said he always loved her and was proud of her."

"She obviously didn't see it that way."

They drove in silence for a moment, then Mulder spoke.

"We literally dodged a bullet last night. I was even praying and
you know I'm not much of a believer," he said with a wry grin.

Scully smiled slightly and said, "So what about now?  Now are you
a believer?"

"I don't know.... Did God get us out of that or did you?"

"That's one of those theological questions that doesn't have
an answer.  Did God put the idea of faking a seizure in my
head?  I don't know.  I just knew that I had to do something.
It's strange because losing control of my body and having
seizures has been very difficult for me to accept.  I really
haven't accepted it yet.  But faking the loss of control that
comes with a seizure is what allowed me to get the jump on BJ.
And it's the same with the cancer.  Cancer is your body's cells
out of control.  Maybe I've tried to keep everything about myself
under control for too long.  The cancer and the seizures have
taken my control of my body away.  Perhaps it's time I relinquish
some of my emotional control willingly."

"I've never liked being out of control," she continued. "My
parents never had to worry about me using drugs," she said wryly.
"But my body already is."  She searched his face for
understanding. "I want to lose control with you, Mulder.  Whether
it was divine intervention or not, we've been given one more
chance.  I want to take it.  If last night showed me anything,
it showed me we can't waste any more time."

"I know," Mulder said as he parked the car in front of their
motel rooms.  Pocketing the key from the ignition he turned
toward Scully and took her hand in his.

"I love you, Scully, and it scares me to death.  Not loving you,
but losing you.  But I promise you this.  We will make the most
of whatever time we have left.  I'll keep looking for a cure
for you for as long as it takes.  We've been so worried about
your illness...but last night I almost lost you to a murderer."
He looked down at their joined hands for a moment, then raised
his eyes back to hers and continued. "We don't know what tomorrow
will bring, but I want to love you tonight."

Scully looked into the eyes of the man she loved and knew he spoke
the truth.  Knew that this was the right step.  "Together we can
face anything," she said as she squeezed his hand.  "Let's go
inside."

******************************************************************

Epilogue - November 13, 1997
Whitesboro State Psychiatric Institute

BJ's Journal
 

=Daddy came to see me today.

=He cried.

=The son of a bitch cried!  He says he doesn't understand.
=Doesn't understand why I did the things I did.  Why I feel the
=way I do.

=I can't believe he cried.  I thought he was a Man.  But Daddy's
=a crybaby just like a girl!

=I hate him!  He's just a big ol' titty baby like everyone else.

=He tricked me!  He told me that he was a Man.  But now I know.
=And I'll be ready for him the next time he comes to visit.

=Yeah, I'll be ready.

=Daddy's next visit will be lot's of fun.  HaHa.

******************************************************************

The End.

Author's Note - If you've read this far, I thank you.  Please
let me know if you liked it (or even if you didn't, although I
doubt you'd still be reading at this point <g>).  I struggled
with this story a LOT.  I originally got the idea back in April,
1997, after reading about a serial killer in Belgium who was
dumping his victims is appropriately grim-named places.  I thought
that sounded rather X-Filish and used that as the basis for this
story.

Scully's first seizure is a fictionalized version of the first
seizure my 9-year-old son had when he was 7.  He takes Depakote
twice daily for tonic-clonic seizures (what used to be called
Grand Mal).  If there's anyone reading this who knows someone who
has been successfully weaned from the medication and remained
seizure-free, I'd love to hear from you.

Selena
[email protected]
 
 
 

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