It's a Hot Day Today
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By: Steve Gower(aka The Nicotine Gum Chewing Man)
{steve@ottawastart.com}

Rating: Saucy!(You'll get it later)

Spoilers: *looks at fic* I really, really, really doubt it. If there
are any spoilers in this fic, you can hang me by my tonsils.

Copyright notices: Obviously, since this is fanfic, I can't copyright
characters I don't own. But I would like to note that I have exclusive
ownership to the "alien-birthing cat" and the "generic sheriff." Oh,
and that illegal hot sauce. It's all MINE!! Seriously, though, all
that I'm trying to get across is - go ahead and take this story, but
e-mail me first, and make sure to give me credit for writing it.
Thanks. (Oh, I wrote it quite some time ago, I only typed it up now.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Agent John Doggett sat down in the X-Files office, working away at a
report for his previous case. That was a weird one; a cat had
reportedly given birth to an alien. It turned out, in the end, that
the owner didn't know what a kitten looked like.

Sighing, he finished the report and relaxed in his broken chair. He
put in repeated requests to have it fixed, but the FBI didn't have any
repair jobs planned in the budget. The elevator doors were still
broken, for goodness sake.

"Well, Doggett, we've got a new case," Scully announced as she entered
the room. "Here's the info." She dropped the file onto the desk.

"I'll look at it later," Doggett replied. "I need a break from all
these weird cases. Most of them are false alarms these days, anyway."

"Doggett, this one's a murder case."

"Murder case?" Doggett flipped open the file. "Scully, it says
CAUSE: UNKNOWN. I was hoping for a normal case."

"How do you know it isn't normal?" Scully sat on the otherside of the
desk. "It could be anything."

"Then why did they send it down here?" Doggett snapped back.

Scully sat up in silence, unable to think of a response. She sighed
and stood up. "I'm going home, Doggett. Give me a call when you're
ready to work on the case."

* * *

Scully's cell phone rang, but before she could answer it, William
grabbed it from the table. He was about to drop it in the fish tank.

"William, no!" Scully ran over and pulled William away from the tank.
"Mommy needs her cell phone for work, William." Scully plunked
William in front of the TV, then answered the phone. "Scully."

"An aweful lot of rings, Agent Scully." Doggett answered. "Are you
alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine...so what's up?"

"I'm drinkin' a Bud, watchin' the game."

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. Listen, I've booked us a flight out to Cleveland."

"Whats' out in Cleveland?" Scully scrunched up her face.

"The murder case." Doggett paused. "Didn't you read the file, Agent
Scully?"

"Well I skimmed over it, I didn't read it in detail."

"We leave in two hours. See you then." There was a click, and the
call ended.

* * *

"I'm Agent Scully, and this is Agent Doggett." Scully and Doggett
showed their FBI badges. "Is the crime scene still intact, sheriff?"

"Yes," the sheriff replied. "We discovered the body around six o'clock
yesterday evening, after responding to a 911 call that was cut short
by the victim apparently collapsing."

"Any witnesses?" Doggett asked. "Neighbours? Did he live with
anyone?"

"Only witness was the neighbour, and that was when the victim didn't
answer the door for several minutes, prompting her to go inside..."
The sheriff shook his head. "What really makes no sense is that there
are no scars of any sort on the body."

"So? He was probably killed with a poison." Scully said.

"I don't think so. We've tested his food and we didn't find any
poison. Maybe you could perform an autopsy, Agent Scully?"

"Sure. Doggett, you take a look around the house."

"Sheriff, show me the crime scene," Doggett said as he moved away
from the entrance.

* * *

"This is exactly how we found the scene," the sheriff said. "Well,
minus the body of course."

"You said there was definately no poison." Doggett looked around the
dinner table. "Because you checked the food, right?"

"Yup," the sheriff nodded.

"But you just now said this is how you found the crime scene. I don't
get it. Either you checked and this isn't how you found the scene, or
you didn't do the check at all."

"Okay - you got me. We didn't do a single check."

"Then why did you say you did?"

"Honestly, because I don't need the FBI. I wanted you and Agent Scully
to leave as soon as the autopsy was completed."

"Well guess what, sheriff? We're not leaving until this investigation
is completed properly." Doggett walked over to the place setting where
the man had died, and picked up the plate. "I'm going to get every
last item on this plate examined. I don't think I trust you to have it
done." Doggett shoved past the sheriff, proceeding to the kitchen to
wrap the plate in seran wrap.

* * *

Scully tossed away her rubber gloves after completing the autopsy. It
was strange; she couldn't find the exact cause of death - the initial
cause, anyway. Whatever happened, it caused the heart to fail. She
took out her cellphone and called Doggett.

"Agent Doggett," he responded in a phone-filtered voice. "Got
anything?"

"No," she said in a frustrated voice. "I have absolutely nothing. I
know *why* he died, but not *how*."

"Well I've got something else for you to examine: his last meal. Other
than the seran wrap, it's untouched. I'd like you to examine
everything on that plate."

"Sure," Scully sighed. "Bring it over. I'll see what I can find
out."

* * *

"Doggett, there is nothing on this plate even remotely close to any
kind of poison that I know of." Scully sighed.

"You're absolutely sure?" Doggett took a look at the results. "No
odd liquid, or powder?"

"The only added liquid was the hot sauce, and there were no powdery
substances at all."

"There must be something, a -"

"Face it Doggett, we've run into a dead end. We should head back."

"I didn't come out here just for the frequent flyer miles, Scully. I
came here to solve a case. A man doesn't give up on something he's
committed to." Doggett paused a moment. "Let's go back to the scene,
there may be something we missed."

* * *

"Okay, sheriff, tell us what you know!" Doggett demanded menacingly.
"Sheriff?" Doggett and Scully looked throughout the house, and found
the dead body of the sheriff, his face floating in a bowl of soup.

"I guess he couldn't resist the urge of free food," Scully sighed*.
"I'll get the body sent to the -"

"No, Scully, wait." Doggett went over to the table, and surveyed the
scene. "I didn't see it before, because our victim didn't keep a
crowded table."

"What didn't you see?"

"Scully, look at the hot sauce." Doggett picked up the bottle of hot
sauce and handed it to Scully.

"So? It's just hot sauce." Scully put the bottle back on the table.

"I know my hot sauce, Scully, and that there is black market hot sauce.
More than a drop and it'll kill you."

"So you're saying..."

"Our victim obtained illegal hot sauce and he didn't know how lethal
it was."

"And he died because he used too much?"

"That's the theory; a man doesn't drink half a cup of illegal hot sauce
and live to tell about it."

"Doggett..." Scully rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, it was a lethal dose
of hot sauce. You want to put that in our report?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'alien telepathy,' myself."
Doggett smiled, and left Scully standing alone at the dinner table.

*-Scully sure is sighing a lot today, isn't she?