Chapter Two: Missing Identity

The sound of sirens hung in the early morning air, flashing lights staining the buildings in blue and red. Special agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully ducked under the police tape that was blocking off the entrance to an alleyway, breath misting out in the cold morning air. The two FBI agents had been called up at an ungodly hour of the morning, and flown from Washington to New York. That in itself wasn't strange, it happened all the time. What was weird was that they had been given absolutely no information on what had happened. "Very spooky," Mulder had jested during the flight.

The alleyway was cordoned off, but that didn't stop people from hanging around, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of what was going on. That was completely normal, though sometimes Mulder preferred that they didn't. Extra people just got in the way. However, as he and Scully ducked under the police barrier, Fox caught a glimpse of a strange couple, a tall man and a red-headed woman. Their clothes were so different from the rest of the crowd that Mulder couldn't help but staring. The tall man caught his glaze, and gave him a small wave accompanied by a wide grin.

"Are you Mulder?"

Fox tore his eyes away from the strange pair, turning to face the speaker. It was a stocky police officer who looked way out of his depth. "That's me," Mulder said, showing his identification, "Special agent Mulder, and this is my partner, special agent Scully." He gestured to Dana, who forced out a smile while stifling a yawn.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," the officer said as he lead the two FBI agents down the short alley. "We wouldn't have called you, but one of the junior detectives had heard of your reputation and frankly, we have no idea what to do."

"Well, can I see the victim?" Scully asked, rubbing wearily at her eyes, admitting defeat to Mulder, who never seemed to get sleepy when dragged out of bed at insane hours of the night.

While she followed the police officer, Mulder stared around at the cold hard brick walls with their deep black windows. The alley was nondescript, with a dumpster and a fire escape. It was like so many other alleys across the world, and so many people had gone missing in alleys just like this one. He ran his hand along one of the walls, but withdrew it when he felt something sticky.

There was some kind of clear, gelatinous substance coating the tips of his fingers, and when he sniffed it, it gave off a slight fishy odour. He slipped a small evidence bag out of his pocket and, after snapping on a glove, scraped some of the goo, for want of a better term, into the bag. He resealed it, and stuck it back inside his pocket. Whatever that stuff was, it must somehow be linked with the case. He didn't know how, or why he knew, it was just instinct. It seems like he listened to his instincts quite a bit. Still, it usually worked out well in the end. Not the use of the word usually, he added ruefully.

With a resigned sigh, Mulder scanned the crime scene again. There were more officers then they really needed, and most of them were just milling around aimlessly, trying to look busy but failing miserably. One thing that came to his attention was that couple, or rather, the lack of them. With their strange manner of dressing, it was easy to notice they were gone. However, that was the least of his problems.

"Mulder, you better come have a look at this!"

Fox walked over to where Scully was kneeling next to a body under a white sheet. "What is it, what have you found?" he asked, crouching down next to her.

"Have a look for yourself," she replied, lifting back the sheet.

Mulder recoiled from the sight, and he had seen a lot of horrible things during his career. But this, this was just so, wrong. The person he was looking at had just a smooth surface of skin where the face should be. No distinguishing marks, no eyes, mouth or nose. Just smooth skin. "Their identity has been stolen."

The Doctor hurried across the road, hands tucked deep into his pockets. "He saw you," Donna said, jogging to keep up with the Time Lord's long stride. "That man, he saw you. He looked like government. Maybe FBI. And he saw you."

"It doesn't matter," the Doctor said, exasperated, digging his TARDIS key out of his pocket, and turning a corner. "As they say, we have bigger fish to fry."

Donna frowned at him. "I can see why you never became a comedian."

"Fish? I thought it was rather good." The Doctor shrugged, and spotted the TARDIS, sitting innocuously on an ordinary street corner. He unlocked the door, and slipped inside, not bothering to implement the time-honoured tradition of ladies first. Donna followed him in, more than a little bit angry at being dragged halfway across the universe to New York in 1996 after an alien that they'd only caught the tiniest glimpse of. But that was the Doctor for you, believing he needed no reason to land on an exploding planet or a collapsing building and in fact, that sounded like exactly something he would do.

She quietly closed the door behind her, drinking in the sight of the interior TARDIS. It was all arching beams and curving walls that were so very alien, but at the same time, looked they had been grown, rather than built. Compared to outside, this place was bursting with life. Golden light pulsed within the walls, while green light glowed out from the glass column that rose majestically to the ceiling. This had to be one of the most wonderful places in the universe, and she wasn't going to give it up for anything.

"So," she said, in her usual slightly annoyed tone. "What do we do now, spaceman? You've lost the murdering alien, and we've been spotted by the authorities."

The Doctor rubbed his chin, twiddling with a few buttons on the console. He always seemed to be doing that, even when they weren't in flight. "I'm sure that all I need to do is refine my detector-thing. Widen its range. We'll find it in no time."

"Well, we better. Otherwise more people are going to end up like that bloke last night. Faceless," Donna pointed out, and the Doctor knew that was all too true.

A/N: There's the second chapter, written on the fly, hope it isn't too bad. As my friend Deaths-master told me, the title for this story was her idea, so she gets full credit for the title 'Faceless'. The idea for the story was all mine, however. Deary me, just goes to show how weird I am, dunnit?