Chapter 4:
What The Night Isn't For
The other agents arrived quickly enough. They set off a perimeter around Jack's house, and began dusting the place for prints. In the living room, silver lights flashed as agents took pictures of everything around. Shaking his head, Special Agent in Charge David Parks wasn't too happy with Agent Mulder.
"Why didn't you call for some backup?!! Things could have gone down real ugly!"
Mulder looked a bit depressed already, since he felt the killer had gotten away on his account. He wasn't even willing to defend himself.
As much as he envied Mulder for his relationship with Scully, Jack wasn't vindictive. Scully was in the kitchen with examining the scene, and there was nobody else to defend Mulder. Mulder didn't deserve to get chewed out by some agent with delusions of grandeur.
Jack spoke up. "Hey, he had no time. We just missed the killer as it is. At least he was able to catch the guy by surprise."
"Who the hell is this kid?!!"
Jack went toe to toe with Parks.
"This is my place. That was my sketch," Jack said, stretching the truth a bit, "And I think you should be damn thankful that I found that bottle."
Parks and Jack eyed each other closely. Jack went on.
"I think you should be damn thankful that Agent Mulder here, was willing to put his life on the line to catch this killer."
Jack's eyes flashed pure ice. Parks broke off his stare with Jack and turned away. He stormed off to take out his anger on some other unfortunate agents.
Jack shook his head, "What a douche."
Mulder smiled. The kid did have a set of brass ones.
-----------------------
They met Scully out by the car. Darkness had fallen, with only the faintest hint of the orange orb disappearing over the far horizon.
Scully spoke up.
"I don't think its safe for you to stay here. We don't know if the killer will come back to the scene of the crime."
Mulder had recovered his spirits.
"No, Scully, I think that he's already on the move again. I think he's already looking for new 'models' in his next sketch. He won't surface again until we find a pair of bodies with bullets in their heads along with his own sketch of one of Mazzola's works."
"Well, we still can't leave Jack here." Then to Jack, "Do you have anyplace to stay?"
Jack had friends, sure. They would stay at his place to party, but Jack doubted if they would ever really return the favor. It was tough to really know who your friends were ('Trust No One" Jack ironically thought). And Jack's closest family lived in California. Jack had never realized how alone he really was.
"No, I guess I don't really have a place to crash."
There was that glance between Mulder and Scully again. The ache came back into Jack's chest.
"Well, you could stay with us," Mulder offered.
Jack certainly had no objections.
"Hey, thanks a lot."
"Its no problem."
"Let me just get some things."
Jack couldn't believe his luck. A night with Mulder and Scully. Jack walked back into the house thinking of all the charming things he would say that night. Maybe he still had a shot with her after all.
-----------------------
Darkness shrouded the land.
The Man sat still in the car, next to the masterful sketch. He saw the tall cop, along with the redhead and the kid, come out of the house. Then the tall cop and the redhead got into a car while the kid went back inside. The Man smiled. It would be soon now.
Then a BMW pulled into the driveway and stopped alongside the Man's car.
Crap.
A balding, tired looking man stepped out of the car. He stared at the Man in his Jaguar.
"Who the hell are you?"
The Man did it all in one fluid motion. He wrapped the revolver tightly in a cloth, opened the car door, stepped to within feet of the balding man, and shot him once in the face.
The balding man crumpled in a pile on the pavement. The Man looked over his shoulder at the kid's place. Nobody had noticed him. Darkness didn't just shroud the land; it shrouded peoples' minds.
The Man heard the car with the agents start up, and he saw the kid had come back out with a duffle bag. They were leaving together. That would make it all easier. The Man quickly shoved the body at his feet underneath the BMW. He was getting sloppy. He hadn't had time to get rid of the whisky, now he didn't have time to get rid of the body. Ah well, when he made his next sketch, then all would be better.
-----------------------
They arrived back in the City an hour later. Jack was back to his old charming self.
"Well the truth is, I think there's a cabal that runs *everything* behind the government's back. You guys are in the FBI, you must know these things."
Jack had said the first part sarcastically, and Scully smiled. Mulder just shook his head.
"Listen," Mulder replied, "at the end of the day, you'd be surprised how little we really know. At least when you take a look at the big picture."
Scully could tell Mulder was poised to leap into the abyss that was conspiracy theories, and she cut him off when she saw their hotel.
"This is it, Mulder." She turned to Jack, and said in a low voice, "Don't let him get started."
Jack smiled. She smiled back. Mulder just shook his head again.
-----------------------
They stayed in separate, adjoining rooms (did Jack expect anything else from Mulder and Scully?). The hotel was a standard moderate-priced chain building, but still pretty fancy compared with the motels Mulder and Scully normally ended up in.
But after all the work they've done for the Bureau, Jack thought, didn't they deserve a little in return?
Mulder had offered Jack his bed.
"I can sleep on the foldout."
"No, really, its fine. I'll sleep on the foldout."
What Jack didn't say was that he'd rather be sleeping in Agent Scully's room.
Mulder and Jack walked through the connecting door into Scully's room. She was wearing her glasses and typing at her laptop. She looked so concentrated on her work, Jack thought. *Such a hard worker*.
"I'm gonna go out to the field office," Mulder said, "there are some notes I want to pick up."
Scully looked up from her work and removed her glasses.
"Sure, Jack and I can order some room service," she said looking to Jack and smiling.
He would be alone with her. Jack tried to conceal his elation.
"Yeah, sure, that sounds great."
"I ought to be back in an hour or so," Mulder said as he walked out the door.
Scully picked up the phone.
"So, what do you want?"
Jack bit his lip. If only she knew what he really wanted.
-----------------------
Now it was Jack's turn to laugh.
"He really *gnawed* on the coroner?"
"Oh yeah. He had forgotten to bring another set of *fangs*, so he couldn't actually drain the blood."
Jack knew the story. He knew it by heart. It was one of his favorite episodes. But when he heard it again from Scully's mouth, it felt like he was *really* laughing for the first time in his life.
They both sat around the coffee table in the center of the room, eating the pizza that they had agreed to order.
Jack was still wearing his khakis and his blue dress shirt, but he had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt.
"Sounds like you work on some pretty interesting cases, Agent Scully."
"Well, we don't exactly get your run-of-the-mill cases at the FBI."
She paused, as if thinking.
"And you can call me Dana."
"Dana," Jack repeated.
Thunder cracked outside, punctuating Jack's statement.
Scully looked to the sliding doors before the balcony.
"Looks we're going to get more rain."
She turned back to Jack. Jack took her in. Her red lips were slightly pursed. The first couple of buttons on her shirt were opened, offering the most tempting of hints. Her red hair stood out in the dim light cast by the lamp on a far table. A slight smile covered her moist lips (Jack was drawn to them again). And those open eyes of hers, they drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. What Jack didn't realize was that the closer moths got to flames, the more they got burned.
Jack moved in close to Scully. He couldn't hold in his urge to kiss her any longer. He moved in smoothly, coming in real close to her. He cocked his head a little to the side, his eyes locked into hers. Then Jack moved in to kiss Scully. Dana.
She turned her head away.
"Listen, Jack."
He pulled back quickly, like he had been burned on a stove. *No, No, No!* It was going all wrong!
"I'm flattered. I really am-"
Oh God. Here it came.
"-but I'm not really looking for-"
God no.
"-any relationship."
Jack felt like he had fallen off the edge of the earth.
"You're a nice kid Jack-"
Jack swallowed hard. He was running out of air.
"-but something like this wouldn't work out."
Jack got up.
"I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, "I'm sorry."
He stood up and staggered into the adjoining room.
"Jack?" Scully called out.
He shut the door behind him. The ache in his chest was so painful he could barely stand it. He took one breath. Now the anger welled up inside him. Not a Scully, God, he could never be angry at Scully. Jack was fuming at himself. What a fool he'd been. What a damn stupid fool.
Jack rammed his fist into a wall. It wasn't like in the movies. It just bounced off and hurt like hell.
Jack needed some air. He couldn't stay so close to her, and yet be so far away. He left.
-----------------------
Scully had been flattered. She really had. The kid *was* charming, not to mention pretty cute. But wouldn't have worked out, and she wasn't looking for a relationship. It wasn't just on account of Mulder. He was just her friend. She just really wasn't looking for a relationship right now.
She got up and knocked on the adjoining room's door.
"Jack?"
She opened the door. Nobody was there. Poor kid. She didn't think of herself in a sexy way, but Jack had obviously been affected. Scully actually felt bad. He must've taken it pretty hard. Poor kid.
Scully sighed. *Maybe, maybe, in another place, another time.*
-----------------------
Mulder had been on his way back to the hotel when the rain came down. It came down with a vengeance. He had been walking, and he needed to get out of the rain. He saw the neon lights of a strip club. *Well, well*. He hadn't been to one in a long time. What, a week? Mulder was sure Scully and Jack would be fine without him. He stepped in out of the rain.
-----------------------
"No, I refuse to believe that-that our lives our some sort of public spectacle."
Jack had come back. He had told Scully everything. *Everything*.
"I refuse to believe that we're on display weekly to the world."
Jack still wanted her. Even after being rebuffed, standing here, witness to her skepticism, Jack still wanted her.
"Listen, I can understand if you were looking to try and impress me. But making up some crazy story isn't going to do it."
She stormed out of his room. Those last words really stung Jack. He didn't even hear a knock on the door. Finally he walked over and opened it up.
-----------------------
The Man smiled.
"Room service."
"I don't think we ordered anything else."
"Probably not."
The Man hit Jack over the head with his revolver, and Jack fell to the ground.
The last think Jack thought before he blacked out was: *Didn't I see this in Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose?* Then he was out.
----------------------- -----------------------
So, what do you think? Getting interesting? Sorry this one's so long. By the way, this chapter's title is a rip-off of the London play Gillian Anderson was in. I also tried to sneak episode's titles into the story (ex/ One Breath, and Darkness Falls-from the previous chapter). Hope to get up the next chapter soon, your best bud, The Writer
What The Night Isn't For
The other agents arrived quickly enough. They set off a perimeter around Jack's house, and began dusting the place for prints. In the living room, silver lights flashed as agents took pictures of everything around. Shaking his head, Special Agent in Charge David Parks wasn't too happy with Agent Mulder.
"Why didn't you call for some backup?!! Things could have gone down real ugly!"
Mulder looked a bit depressed already, since he felt the killer had gotten away on his account. He wasn't even willing to defend himself.
As much as he envied Mulder for his relationship with Scully, Jack wasn't vindictive. Scully was in the kitchen with examining the scene, and there was nobody else to defend Mulder. Mulder didn't deserve to get chewed out by some agent with delusions of grandeur.
Jack spoke up. "Hey, he had no time. We just missed the killer as it is. At least he was able to catch the guy by surprise."
"Who the hell is this kid?!!"
Jack went toe to toe with Parks.
"This is my place. That was my sketch," Jack said, stretching the truth a bit, "And I think you should be damn thankful that I found that bottle."
Parks and Jack eyed each other closely. Jack went on.
"I think you should be damn thankful that Agent Mulder here, was willing to put his life on the line to catch this killer."
Jack's eyes flashed pure ice. Parks broke off his stare with Jack and turned away. He stormed off to take out his anger on some other unfortunate agents.
Jack shook his head, "What a douche."
Mulder smiled. The kid did have a set of brass ones.
-----------------------
They met Scully out by the car. Darkness had fallen, with only the faintest hint of the orange orb disappearing over the far horizon.
Scully spoke up.
"I don't think its safe for you to stay here. We don't know if the killer will come back to the scene of the crime."
Mulder had recovered his spirits.
"No, Scully, I think that he's already on the move again. I think he's already looking for new 'models' in his next sketch. He won't surface again until we find a pair of bodies with bullets in their heads along with his own sketch of one of Mazzola's works."
"Well, we still can't leave Jack here." Then to Jack, "Do you have anyplace to stay?"
Jack had friends, sure. They would stay at his place to party, but Jack doubted if they would ever really return the favor. It was tough to really know who your friends were ('Trust No One" Jack ironically thought). And Jack's closest family lived in California. Jack had never realized how alone he really was.
"No, I guess I don't really have a place to crash."
There was that glance between Mulder and Scully again. The ache came back into Jack's chest.
"Well, you could stay with us," Mulder offered.
Jack certainly had no objections.
"Hey, thanks a lot."
"Its no problem."
"Let me just get some things."
Jack couldn't believe his luck. A night with Mulder and Scully. Jack walked back into the house thinking of all the charming things he would say that night. Maybe he still had a shot with her after all.
-----------------------
Darkness shrouded the land.
The Man sat still in the car, next to the masterful sketch. He saw the tall cop, along with the redhead and the kid, come out of the house. Then the tall cop and the redhead got into a car while the kid went back inside. The Man smiled. It would be soon now.
Then a BMW pulled into the driveway and stopped alongside the Man's car.
Crap.
A balding, tired looking man stepped out of the car. He stared at the Man in his Jaguar.
"Who the hell are you?"
The Man did it all in one fluid motion. He wrapped the revolver tightly in a cloth, opened the car door, stepped to within feet of the balding man, and shot him once in the face.
The balding man crumpled in a pile on the pavement. The Man looked over his shoulder at the kid's place. Nobody had noticed him. Darkness didn't just shroud the land; it shrouded peoples' minds.
The Man heard the car with the agents start up, and he saw the kid had come back out with a duffle bag. They were leaving together. That would make it all easier. The Man quickly shoved the body at his feet underneath the BMW. He was getting sloppy. He hadn't had time to get rid of the whisky, now he didn't have time to get rid of the body. Ah well, when he made his next sketch, then all would be better.
-----------------------
They arrived back in the City an hour later. Jack was back to his old charming self.
"Well the truth is, I think there's a cabal that runs *everything* behind the government's back. You guys are in the FBI, you must know these things."
Jack had said the first part sarcastically, and Scully smiled. Mulder just shook his head.
"Listen," Mulder replied, "at the end of the day, you'd be surprised how little we really know. At least when you take a look at the big picture."
Scully could tell Mulder was poised to leap into the abyss that was conspiracy theories, and she cut him off when she saw their hotel.
"This is it, Mulder." She turned to Jack, and said in a low voice, "Don't let him get started."
Jack smiled. She smiled back. Mulder just shook his head again.
-----------------------
They stayed in separate, adjoining rooms (did Jack expect anything else from Mulder and Scully?). The hotel was a standard moderate-priced chain building, but still pretty fancy compared with the motels Mulder and Scully normally ended up in.
But after all the work they've done for the Bureau, Jack thought, didn't they deserve a little in return?
Mulder had offered Jack his bed.
"I can sleep on the foldout."
"No, really, its fine. I'll sleep on the foldout."
What Jack didn't say was that he'd rather be sleeping in Agent Scully's room.
Mulder and Jack walked through the connecting door into Scully's room. She was wearing her glasses and typing at her laptop. She looked so concentrated on her work, Jack thought. *Such a hard worker*.
"I'm gonna go out to the field office," Mulder said, "there are some notes I want to pick up."
Scully looked up from her work and removed her glasses.
"Sure, Jack and I can order some room service," she said looking to Jack and smiling.
He would be alone with her. Jack tried to conceal his elation.
"Yeah, sure, that sounds great."
"I ought to be back in an hour or so," Mulder said as he walked out the door.
Scully picked up the phone.
"So, what do you want?"
Jack bit his lip. If only she knew what he really wanted.
-----------------------
Now it was Jack's turn to laugh.
"He really *gnawed* on the coroner?"
"Oh yeah. He had forgotten to bring another set of *fangs*, so he couldn't actually drain the blood."
Jack knew the story. He knew it by heart. It was one of his favorite episodes. But when he heard it again from Scully's mouth, it felt like he was *really* laughing for the first time in his life.
They both sat around the coffee table in the center of the room, eating the pizza that they had agreed to order.
Jack was still wearing his khakis and his blue dress shirt, but he had taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt.
"Sounds like you work on some pretty interesting cases, Agent Scully."
"Well, we don't exactly get your run-of-the-mill cases at the FBI."
She paused, as if thinking.
"And you can call me Dana."
"Dana," Jack repeated.
Thunder cracked outside, punctuating Jack's statement.
Scully looked to the sliding doors before the balcony.
"Looks we're going to get more rain."
She turned back to Jack. Jack took her in. Her red lips were slightly pursed. The first couple of buttons on her shirt were opened, offering the most tempting of hints. Her red hair stood out in the dim light cast by the lamp on a far table. A slight smile covered her moist lips (Jack was drawn to them again). And those open eyes of hers, they drew Jack in like a moth to a flame. What Jack didn't realize was that the closer moths got to flames, the more they got burned.
Jack moved in close to Scully. He couldn't hold in his urge to kiss her any longer. He moved in smoothly, coming in real close to her. He cocked his head a little to the side, his eyes locked into hers. Then Jack moved in to kiss Scully. Dana.
She turned her head away.
"Listen, Jack."
He pulled back quickly, like he had been burned on a stove. *No, No, No!* It was going all wrong!
"I'm flattered. I really am-"
Oh God. Here it came.
"-but I'm not really looking for-"
God no.
"-any relationship."
Jack felt like he had fallen off the edge of the earth.
"You're a nice kid Jack-"
Jack swallowed hard. He was running out of air.
"-but something like this wouldn't work out."
Jack got up.
"I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, "I'm sorry."
He stood up and staggered into the adjoining room.
"Jack?" Scully called out.
He shut the door behind him. The ache in his chest was so painful he could barely stand it. He took one breath. Now the anger welled up inside him. Not a Scully, God, he could never be angry at Scully. Jack was fuming at himself. What a fool he'd been. What a damn stupid fool.
Jack rammed his fist into a wall. It wasn't like in the movies. It just bounced off and hurt like hell.
Jack needed some air. He couldn't stay so close to her, and yet be so far away. He left.
-----------------------
Scully had been flattered. She really had. The kid *was* charming, not to mention pretty cute. But wouldn't have worked out, and she wasn't looking for a relationship. It wasn't just on account of Mulder. He was just her friend. She just really wasn't looking for a relationship right now.
She got up and knocked on the adjoining room's door.
"Jack?"
She opened the door. Nobody was there. Poor kid. She didn't think of herself in a sexy way, but Jack had obviously been affected. Scully actually felt bad. He must've taken it pretty hard. Poor kid.
Scully sighed. *Maybe, maybe, in another place, another time.*
-----------------------
Mulder had been on his way back to the hotel when the rain came down. It came down with a vengeance. He had been walking, and he needed to get out of the rain. He saw the neon lights of a strip club. *Well, well*. He hadn't been to one in a long time. What, a week? Mulder was sure Scully and Jack would be fine without him. He stepped in out of the rain.
-----------------------
"No, I refuse to believe that-that our lives our some sort of public spectacle."
Jack had come back. He had told Scully everything. *Everything*.
"I refuse to believe that we're on display weekly to the world."
Jack still wanted her. Even after being rebuffed, standing here, witness to her skepticism, Jack still wanted her.
"Listen, I can understand if you were looking to try and impress me. But making up some crazy story isn't going to do it."
She stormed out of his room. Those last words really stung Jack. He didn't even hear a knock on the door. Finally he walked over and opened it up.
-----------------------
The Man smiled.
"Room service."
"I don't think we ordered anything else."
"Probably not."
The Man hit Jack over the head with his revolver, and Jack fell to the ground.
The last think Jack thought before he blacked out was: *Didn't I see this in Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose?* Then he was out.
----------------------- -----------------------
So, what do you think? Getting interesting? Sorry this one's so long. By the way, this chapter's title is a rip-off of the London play Gillian Anderson was in. I also tried to sneak episode's titles into the story (ex/ One Breath, and Darkness Falls-from the previous chapter). Hope to get up the next chapter soon, your best bud, The Writer
