Fourth Down – part 1 of ?
by spookycc
Thanks to my beta, JudyG!
LOCI episode Timeline: This is my take on the purported 2-part season 9 season premiere, which will be the last episode I ever write fanfic for. (I don't write very good FLUFF ;-)
Summary: Who is inside whose head?
...I smell death here, and it causes a strange chill to roll through my body. I caused the stench, you see. Fearful sweat and the coppery taste of blood mix with the garbage of the darkened alley.
I move slightly to the side, to get a better view of the scene of the crime. My scene. Pallets and crates block anyone's view of me while I observe the scene before me. Somewhere behind me, a cat cries, probably starving. I smell rain on the wind. Good. That will obscure the crime scene.
The yellow caution tape has not yet been strung here, but it follows me wherever I go. I wonder who they will send this time. Hopefully it will be him. The only one who could ever find me out. A shiver runs down my spine, and I wipe the sweat from my eyes. It stings.
Red lights precede the hulk of a black SUV pulling into the alley. I smile to myself. I knew he would come. I planned it this way.
He won't be driving, of course – she will be. I know them like I know the back of my hand. I know they've been assigned my "case", and I knew that they would be the first ones here.
I lean back against the mossy brick wall of the warehouse, and smile to myself. They haven't been able to catch me. They've been so close that I have felt the man almost like he was inside my head. That freaked me out at first, but now I welcome it. I invite him in, to show him the darkness I have planned for him.
Yes, they've come close. It took three kills to get Major Case assigned to me. Prominent people always get the best investigative work done after they die. True, they are more dangerous to stalk and slay, but it can be done. Has been done.
I am disappointed but thrilled. It took me a long time to find a worthy adversary, and I knew I couldn't outwit everyone. I can outwit almost anyone. But not this man.
I never underestimate the people sent to find me, but some in the past have been laughable in their ineptitude. Not these two. Not this man. I may not be free for much longer. Neither will he.
I saw them at my other crime scenes. They were in my line of sight but never imagining I was still there. The man, leaning close to each body, as if they could speak to him. Maybe they do. The woman, asking questions. Always questions. She is bright, too. But she is not like him.
She approaches every crime scene with a clinical detachment that is in sharp contrast to his obvious fascination. She finds clues, but she would never find me. Not without him.
I feel him now as they slide from their vehicle and move toward my latest prey. I feel him inside my head, and I tear my thoughts away from him. He doesn't know my name, but he knows me. That's OK. I know him, too. He is a kindred spirit, only he does not act on the fierce thoughts inside his head, inside his heart. He has that control. I do not. But I understand him, and he understands me.
He does not handle this knowledge easily. I have seen him as he scrutinized each crime scene, his sharp mind able to calculate each detail, each subtle nuance. It is truly poetry to watch him at work.
But lately, he has been different. He falters now and then, his steps unsteady. Something else pulls at his mind. Overwhelming sadness, overwhelming guilt. Sleepless nights have dulled his sharp mind, but only a bit. He is sinking into my madness.
His partner is worried for him. I can feel it through him. She hovers close by him, as though guarding him. From what, I do not know. But she should be guarding him from me. He is closer to me now.
The rain spatters the bloodied alleyway and washes the dirt and grime from my hair and face. Not that it bothered me. She pulls an umbrella from the truck, and he leans under it as he says something to her. I can't feel what he is saying as I usually can. It worries me.
I shrink down further behind the boxes that block me from their view. Peering between them, I can't make out their figures in the now-steady rain. Have they gone back to their vehicle?
No... no, I still feel his threads of thought in my mind. But just barely. I sit back on my heels, wondering why I can't feel him as ... intimately as I usually can. Maybe the visibility problems cause this. I don't know. I've never shared my mind with anyone before.
"Freeze! Police!"
What? No! Without forethought, I bring my weapon to bear on the spot of darkness down the side of the alley, from which the sound came. I feel nothing of him in my mind. Is it him? Is it her?
My weapon discharges once, twice, at the same time a bullet zips past my head, thankfully off-target.
No time to let my mind dwell on which one I hit. I flee down the other side alley, into the night...
~~continued in part 2~~