Title: Half a Split Second By: Alycia Category: kind of DRR, case file, Crossover Summary: An XF/Die Hard crossover Rating: NC-17 for language, hella disturbing images, violence and the tiniest bit of sex Feedback: aly_spook@hotmail.com Archive: Anywhere! Author's Note: This is my first Crossover fic, so please bear with me! I'm so scared it's going to SUCK! So tell me what you really think of it. Disclaimer: To Chris Carter: Reyes, Doggett, Scully and Skinner are happier with ME than they've ever been with you so they're staying with me forever and ever! And to the guy that created John and Holly McClane: I don't know who you are, but I like your characters so I'm stealing them for this fic, aight? No infringement intended, and don't worry, I'll give them back. I promise their safety. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Lieutenant John McClane's Apartment New York City, New York June 6th, 2002 ~!TEASER!~ *John McClane held his wife closer, glad to be with her finally, once again. He felt her run her fingers gently up and down his bulging biceps and along his muscular chest and down his tight abs. It was so good to have her back.* John McClane awoke from the dream and shot out of bed, cold sweat on his brow and out of breath. The sleeping woman next to him was not Holly McClane. Her hair was not thick and brown and curly. It was sleek, and dark and short. Her naked back faced him, and it was then that he realized he had no pants on. "Oh God," he mumbled. "Who is that?" He placed a strong hand on her shoulder and she mumbled something, obviously still asleep. He got tired of waiting for her to wake up and turned her over, revealing her angelic face. Her eyes shot open wide, deep sherry brown pools of perfection. "Lieutenant McClane?" she cried in disbelief. "Agent Reyes?!" ~*~*~*~*~*~ One Week Earlier Time Square New York City, New York May 30th, 2002 Monica Reyes glanced circumspectly at her partner as he glanced at the crime scene around them. It was rather hellish, and it brought back too many memories of his days in New York. The hum of traffic blasted in her ears as she surveyed the scene herself, a little peeved that AD Skinner had assigned them to this case. They worked on The X-Files now, and this didn't look like an x-file to her. A man stepped out of a small shop, carrying a cup of coffee and dressed kind of jauntily. He was about a step away from the tipped up hat, and Reyes found herself 'checking him out.' He was sort of gruff looking, with dark hair and a bit of stubble on his cheeks and chin. His face and body didn't match his attire, but he was attractive nonetheless. His eyes were a deep hazel green, and he squinted them in the sunlight. "You're from the FBI, huh?" he said, and to her surprise spoke with only the slightest trace of a New York accent. "I'm Special Agent Monica Reyes and this is my partner Special Agent John Doggett. We're here to investigate the case, but you already knew that, didn't you." As she and her partner flashed him their badges, she smiled, trying to look appealing to him.. It seemed to work because he gave her the same smile back. "I'm Lieutenant John McClane, NYPD." It was his turn to flash them a badge and John looked at her and then at the Lieutenant, obviously a bit peeved at the extreme eye contact they were making. "Do you have any idea what the hell happened here Lieutenant McClane?" John asked gruffly. McClane looked away, evidently dour about what he does for a living. "This was a murder Agent Doggett. This isn't really my specialty so I'm not happy about working on this case, or that they called you people in...but perceptibly they did," he took a breath. "So this is what happened to the victims." "There was more than one victim?" Monica divulged. "Well, we believe so. There was another person...a man, a Mr. Uh... Mr. Christopher Larkin, that was killed in the same manner as the victim here. And a Mrs. Jill Scott as well. So we think there were three." Monica nodded and John said, "So continue on. How were they killed?" "Would you like detail?" McClane asked. "By all means, indulge us." John said. "First their noses were broken in a method that caused automatic death. The cartilage from their noses went into their brains and they were automatically killed, in half a split second," McClane sipped his coffee. "Then a large number was carved in the victims' chests. In Mr. Larkin it was a big ass 6. In Jill Scott it was a 50, and in the latest victim, Miss Tina Reverie, it was a 1. Then after the number is carved, he or she draws a heart with horns on the victim's forehead, using the victim's blood." Monica felt herself getting sick. She told herself to be strong. This was her job. She had to have a stronger stomach. "A heart with horns?" Monica asked. McClane nodded and pulled a file out of his inner jacket pocket. He threw his coffee in a nearby trash can and flipped through it until he found a photo and held it out for the agents to see. It was of one of the victims' foreheads, and sure enough, a small, perfectly shaped heart was there, with two triangular objects on it that looked too much like horns to say they were anything other than that. "So did all that happen in the order you explained?" Monica questioned as he put the photo back. "Not necessarily," McClane stated. "But I believe that it would be in the order I explained because I don't think this murderer would want to cause pain to his victims before he actually killed him." "But isn't this supposed to be a serial killer?" John asked. "Ah-ah-ah," McClane shook his finger. "I never said this was a serial killer, Agent Doggett. I believe this killer has a motive. He isn't killing...to *kill.* He's killing to prove some kind of point." "How do you know that, McClane?" John was getting exasperated with him. But Monica found herself becoming more and more attracted to him. "I don't know it, Agent Doggett," he said. "But I have a hunch he's trying to prove a point. Why the numbers?" "It could be just for the hell of it." John said. McClane nodded. "Could be. But I think he's spelling something out for us. I'll see you two around, huh?" The Lieutenant shook John's hand and Monica held hers out so he could shake it but he reached down and kissed it as John shot daggers at him with his eyes. "What hotel are you staying at?" he asked. "Ramada." Monica said with a smile. --- "What the hell was that, Monica?" John cried as they slipped into their cars and drove to the Ramada Inn, which is where they were staying. "What the hell was what?" Monica asked, unaware of the dreamy look in her eyes. "The googly eyes, the look on your face when he kissed your hand..." "I'm human, John, I'm allowed to find other humans attractive." "You shouldn't get involved with someone your working with." "It's not like I'm getting involved with you. Look, why are you treating me like your daughter all of a sudden anyway? I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself John." He sighed. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." --- After a filling dinner from Caroline's, they went back to their hotel and did their own thing. Monica busily typed away her field report, and John was typing away, intently, but Monica couldn't help but wonder if it was actually FBI related as she heard the *click, click, click* of the keys. The room phone rang and she picked it up, closing the lap top and answering brightly, "Hello?" "Agent Reyes?" "Yes...who's this?" "It's Lieutenant McClane." "Oh! Hi! How'd you find me?" "I called the front desk and they directed me to your room." "Ah...so what's up?" "Huh?" "What are you doing? Why'd you call?" "Oh...well I was just going to tell you that I think I have an idea of the killer's motive." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." "Listen, I already had dinner, but we could go to a bar or something and we could talk it out there." He paused for a moment. "Sounds great. How about we meet at Caroline's in ten?" "Sure!" "Your partner won't mind, will he?" "Lieutenant, it's not like I'm dating him. And it's not like I'm dating you. So it's okay. See you in ten." --- She sat at a table in the crowded restaurant, looking around for the Lieutenant. She was sweaty in the palms and she kept licking her lips, acting as if it were her first date. *Snap out of it, Monica,* she told herself. *It's a professional meeting.* He entered and found her, then sat next to her with a smile. "Hello again Agent Reyes." "Hello. I ordered you a beer...I didn't know what you liked so I jus-" "A beer is perfect." She smiled. He made her feel very comfortable. "So what do you think the numbers mean?" "To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I just wanted to see you again." Her heart leapt. "Is that so?" "Yes...but it's wrong. Technically, I'm married." "Oh?" her hopes fell. "What do you mean technically married?" "Well she lives in LA, and I live here, obviously," he said, taking a sip of the beer. "We're kind of having problems. She has a great career there, but I like it in New York. I like being a New York cop. You can't leave the crime behind." She nodded understandingly. "So are you dating?" she asked casually. "I haven't had any good offers...*yet*." He placed his hand on hers across the table and she smiled at him. *What a cool guy* she thought. "Well," she situated herself differently. "What if you got a good offer?" "Depends on how the person made the offer." "Oh?" "Yes...see, if she comes up and does what you're doing, talking me out and slowly getting to the point, I might just see her up. But if she comes up and says, 'I wanna fuck you'...well, I still might see her up." Monica laughed. "Lieutenant McClane?" "Call me John." "John," she started over. "I wanna fuck you." --- John Doggett closed the computer after Monica left, she told him where she was going. He didn't know if it was the smartest thing to go to drinks with this guy. To him, he looked like a scrunge. But Monica sees things differently than him...that was why he loved her. He slid under the covers, wondering if what he felt was not anger or worry for Monica's job, but jealousy. Maybe. He didn't want to admit to himself that he, John Doggett, was going out of the dotted line. Was daring to feel for his career partner, what you weren't *supposed* to feel for your partners in the FBI. He rubbed his eyes. *You think too much when you're tired,* he thought. *Go to sleep.* After sleeping almost peacefully for twenty minutes, he woke and got a drink of water. Jesus. It was going to be a long night. --- The only reason Monica wasn't talking about the murder case was because the Lieutenant's hand was on hers and he was giving her that little sideways grin. She smiled back at him, not believing what she'd just said. She finally thought of something else to say. "So your wife. She got a name?" "Holly." "That's a pretty name...I was stuck with 'Monica.'" "Monica's a pretty name too." "You think?" Her cell phone rang then, interrupting the incredible eye contact they were making. "Monica Reyes." she answered. "Monica...it's me." "John? What's wrong?" "Nothing...why would you assume something's wrong?" "You wouldn't call me unless something was wrong." "Oh...well something is kind of wrong, but it has nothing to do with us. There was another murder." "Oh God." "They called me about two minutes ago." "All right. John and I will be there in a bit." "John?" "McClane." John's voice soured. "You two are on a first name basis now?" "Yes...is there something wrong with that?" "No." Click. "There was another murder," Monica stated, paying a waiter for the drinks. "We have to go to an alley behind the Virgin Mega store. That's where they found the body." "What was the number this time?" "I don't know. John didn't say." --- Her heart thumped as they drove to the alley. Not because she was scared of this case, or anything, but because she was getting that feeling. That old feeling that she'd felt with John so many times before-that old black magic called love. Her hands slipped as she tried to turn in the alley, her hands sweaty from something that was not anxiety, but something better-and worse. They stopped when they saw the crime scene ahead, but made no movement. "Look, you know that first name basis we're on?" she asked. "Yeah." John said. "Just until the case is solved...we better stick to Agent Reyes and Lieutenant McClane. John's sort of a rule follower..." He placed his right hand on her left cheek and pulled her a little closer. "You got it Agent Reyes." Then he planted a soft kiss on her cheek. The chills up and down her spine sort of made her pause before opening the door and getting out, where the John that was her partner stood with his back to her, with several other cops. The Lieutenant and Monica flashed a cop guarding the scene their badges and he let them go through the police line. "John." Monica called his name and her partner turned and walked brusquely over to her. "Monica, Lieutenant. Come on." We walked over to the back of the alley way, where tons of cops stood over a mutilated body much like the ones in the pictures, and the one they'd seen earlier that day. This was a girl, no more than 13 laying there with blood dripping from her nose like a river, and a huge 5 carved in her chest. The heart with horns on her forehead in blood glistened in the tiny amount of light illuminating the alley. Monica glanced disgustedly at the Lieutenant next to her and McClane put a reassuring hand on her arm. "Do we have a positive ID?" he asked a black man who probably worked with him on the force. "Yeah." The black man sighed. "Who is she?" "She's my daughter's best friend's sister. Hilary Sanchez. 13 years old." "Is that a positive ID, sir?" "Yeah." "Can I ask what the FUCK a 13 year old girl was doing in an alley at," the Lieutenant checked his watch. "2:45 in the morning?" "McClane, we don't kn-" "She got in with the wrong crowd," a voice sobbed. Everybody's heads swiveled behind us where the voice was heard. It was a 18 year old girl who had spoken. "Ma'am, this is a crime scene-" John Doggett started. "I'm her FUCKING sister, ass hole! I know why she was out here!" "Alycia, tell us what she was doing." The black man said, and Monica assumed this was his daughter's best friend. "She got in the wrong crowd," Alycia Sanchez said. "They were bad kids. They did bad stuff. They had sex for money, and that's what Hilary was doing out here. That building right there? It's a strip club, you know. And those thirteen year old girls go in there and sell their bodies. That's what my sister was doing and that's why she's dead in an alley." "Oh my God," Monica whispered. "Oh God." McClane's hand tightened on her arm, and she felt so terrible for Alycia, for Hilary. For their parents. "Hey, Ronny, could you get this girl outta here?" a voice cried. "Agents, McClane, I don't know about you, but I'm tired and I need to go home to my woman. So go back to wherever it is you're staying and get some sleep for the night, okay?" the black man said. Monica looked at the Lieutenant. "You want a ride?" "No, looks like Dudley Do Right is coming with you. Don't want him getting jealous now." He leaned in closer, smelling faintly of a sexy cologne that Monica couldn't identify. Aspen, maybe. "Night, Agent Reyes." She gulped. "N-night, Lieutenant." ---- Monica tossed and turned in her bed. God this was hell. She hadn't felt this way about a man since...well, since she'd met John Doggett. She wondered where her feelings for him had went. They seemed to disappear when she saw the way he looked at Dana. And then her heart broke for John when she saw the looks Dana gave Mulder. Sighing, Monica decided to resort to counting sheep. ---- John Doggett wondered why he was so jealous of John McClane. Then he realized it. The way he'd leaned in close to Monica before he went, the way Monica had sort of leaned into his scent when he leaned in closer and she rose on her tip toes, obviously aroused, and the way he squeezed her arm when she got scared or disgusted at the scene of the crime. He sighed. He knew why he was jealous. Because it was he who used to squeeze her arm when she was scared, and he who she'd lean in close to and tell goodbye in that sexy, quiet way of hers. He couldn't help but wonder if McClane and Monica knew that he'd seen him kiss her on the cheek before they got out of the car. He had. And *tried* to think nothing of it. It was just a kiss on the cheek, much like the ones Mulder gave Dana. *Before she had his child* he thought miserably. "I'm falling for Monica." John mused aloud. *Shit. I hope she didn't hear me.* he thought, realizing she was in the next room. He remembered Dana Scully and how he wanted nothing else but her, and how he thought once that it would be impossible to live without her. Now it seemed like he couldn't live without Monica. He'd always thought of Monica as a female friend, nothing more. And now... He groaned and turned over, trying to sleep. ----