"Narcissus' Ochroid Patella"

Chapter One

Nikki's GR8 Convenient Store, New York City, New York

April 6th, 2000, 1:04 p.m.

"How're your wife and kids doing, Chuck?" Nikki Pappas asked and accepted the chart from a surly and unshaven middle aged truck driver.

A Budweiser hat covered most of the hair he lost, and he handed her a pen. "Not bad. Springtime's finally here," Chuck DiCostanzo announced with relief. "I get sick of driving down these icy streets in a huge ass semi."

"I'll bet. You'll be back next week with a little more Bud Light, right?" She signed the clipboard and gave it back to him. "I ordered about 16 more cases."

"If that's what the computer says, it's what I'm bringing. Say hello to your fiancee for me, will ya? Hey, when're you getting married?"

"June. I can hardly wait," she remarked and beamed proudly. "I'm feelin' like shouting "Maybe This Time" down the alleys and all around Times' Square. I know this is kind of unofficial and all, but would you like to come? Bring your family along with you, too."

"It's been a long while since I've been to a wedding; I'd love to. I'll have to ask the Mrs. first. See ya next week, Nikki." DiCostanzo pulled himself back up into the cab of the Budweiser truck and shut the door. He suddenly gripped his stomach and grimaced after starting the engine. "Guess I'd better lay off of those fried mozzarella sticks," he mumbled.

Down the street from Radio City Music Hall, New York City, New York

April 6th, 2000, 1:12 p.m.

"That Cobb salad *really* hit the spot. Wish we didn't have to be back by 1:30," a leggy bleach blonde lamented and pulled her coat closer to her neck as she shivered.

"Look at it this way, Judy, by starting at 9, we finish at 9. Where'd you eat today?" Her brunette companion had most of the same facial features and another pair of stunning legs.

"Same place as usual. I'll take you there tomorrow." When her friend frowned, Judy stopped at a newspaper stand and started to look at the headlines. "Old habits die hard, Jackie. You'll like it."

"Speaking of habits, can I bum a smoke from you?" Judy shrugged and handed Jackie her leftover pack. "Oh, damn, had I known you were short, I would've asked Reneé."

"S'okay. Let me have a pack of your Dromedaries light. Thanks." Judy finished the transaction and lit up from her friend's lighter. "Did you notice how thin Reneé is getting? She might have to get taken in soon."

"Yeah. Hope she's not taking that comment that the assistant stage manager made to heart." Jackie stared into Judy's eyes and halted the both of them from walking any further.

"What's the matter?"

"I think there's something in your eyes. You might want to have Gary check that out."

"Ooh, make me yak. Gary screwed up my ankle with that piss poor taping job last month. I almost got fired because of that bastard's stupidity," Judy smirked and suddenly began to teeter back and forth all over the sidewalk.

"Whoa, girl. Take it easy. Maybe you've got food poisoning," Jackie warned her and tried to catch hold of her friend's arm but failed.

"I'm fine." The dancer stumbled into off of the sidewalk into the street and kept going across the street. Dozens of cars braked sharply in front of her just in time. Unfortunately as Jackie was distracted making with apologies towards the cars with several pairs of middle fingers shown in their direction, she did not see the Budweiser semi truck swerving right towards Judy.

DiCostanzo tried to stop, but he was going too fast and was too huge to not slam into the blonde Rockette. There was a large thud as her body hit the front grille, and the semi hydroplaned across the slick streets, taking a few cars along with it. "Oh shit!" the driver yelled as the truck headed straight for a cement street lamp post.

Had Chuck known that these were going to be his last words, he would probably have thought of something better to say.

"Mulder, where are you?" A completely covered Scully in goo shouted with her SIG Sauer drawn as she headed through a pitifully illuminated chamber. She lurched into a wall as she frantically scoured for some sign of life from him. "Mulder?"

"Scully!" His response was muffled, but it was enough to encourage her to keep going forward.

"Keep yelling, Mulder! I'm almost there!" she screamed back but really wondered just how far he was from her right now. He could be a few feet in front of her-he could be a mile away.

"I'm really cold, Scully! Hurry!" All she heard was *I'm really old, Scully.*

Well, you're just pushing forty now, Mulder. Pushing? Okay, scratch that. More like dragging.

"I think I'm almost there, Mulder! Oof-ouch!" She smacked into a wall...okay, perhaps it was not a wall. She discovered that it was a very large door with a latching handle. Mary, mother of God, he's in a freezer. I'd better hurry.

Seconds later after Scully wrestled the door open, she sheathed her gun and called his name out again. He felt the rush of warm air flood the room and localized her voice within moments. Unfortunately, his exit was quite a bit more clumsy than anything else. He knew she had opened the door, but as he bolted out of the freezer, he ran right into Scully and bulldozed her onto the ground. "Sorry, Scully. I didn't see you standing there," he apologized on top of her.

"Uhn...it's all right. Geeze, Mulder...it's been a long while since...um...-"

"I always imagined you being sticky like this in my dreams, Scully. I never thought that the day would actually come when-"

"NYPD! Freeze!" a cop screamed and pointed his gun into their faces. "Don't worry, officer. FBI," Mulder told him confidently. Six more police officers came into view with their guns drawn and stood in defensive positions to cover the first man. "I can show you my ID."

"Get up off of the woman slowly," the same officer ordered him.

"Is there any way we could speed this up?" Scully complained and grunted underneath Mulder. Under different circumstances, she might not have minded his weight. Certainly the time was not now…in front of a squad of police...or drenched in whatever this awfully sticky stuff was.

His hand went into his jogging pants' pocket and held his identification up to the cop's flashlight. When the man was satisfied, Mulder pocketed his badge and assisted Scully to her feet.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully? Just what in hell happened to you two?" Agent Payton Ritter of the FBI's New York Regional Division asked and stepped out from amongst the crowd. The expression Scully gave him could have liquified the Hubbard Glacier in ten seconds.