July 11th, 2003

Government site 342A

Undisclosed location

(Somewhere in Arizona)

Irene's green SUV bounced up the rocky hill and parked on the flat landing at the top.

She put on her sunglasses and checked her hair in the rear-view mirror. Then she got out and slammed the door shut as a man dressed entirely in kahki jogged up to her.

"Miss Close, you made it," he said, shoving blond hair out of his eyes, "I thought you'd been abducted!"

She laughed and hit him playfully in the shoulder, "Shut up, Brian, I'm only ten minutes late."

"Right you are," he smiled from behind oversized sunglasses. His English accent was winning her over again, and more quickly than she liked.

They began walking towards the site. Irene paused to turn her cell phone off, fumbling with the clip on her belt. She almost dropped the phone, and as she leaned forward to catch it she felt her jeans slide down. She had the distinct feeling Brian was enjoying every second of it. She straightened quickly and pulled down her white tank self-consciously.

"So," she began awkwardly, "you said you found something for me."

"Right," he climed down a ladder Irene hadn't seen. It led to the bottom of the large crater in the rocky desert, coloquially known as "the site." She followed hesitantly.

"So, what we have here is total and complete insanity."

She watched as he sent several other workers scurrying. When they were alone, he led her to a bright blue tarp across the crater's length.

"This," he said, lifting the tarp, "is a very peculiar fellow we've had shipped here from a dig in Ireland."

Irene bent down and surveyed the bones in front of her. Almost all of them were violently shattered, and the skull was nearly entirely caved in. They were laid out to resemble a skeleton as much as was possible. Brian began filling her in.

"He was found, amazingly enough, just outside of Dublin. A small business was having a plot of land dug up and they found this unlucky bloke with the backhoe. Caused one hell of a stir around there."

"How'd you get him here without a lot of people noticing, then?"

He cleared his throat, "uh, well... let's just say there a commotion going on about a missing skeleton."

Irene looked up at him, "And there's no suspicion of international greed? Nothing?"

Brian smiled, "Hey, I said outside of Dublin. There's a news story about ancient magic and such. They think the fairies took him."

Irene laughed and looked at the skull again. The edges of the hole were jagged and sharp.

"Cause of death," Brian narrated, "severe trauma to the head... and to every other bloody part of his body."

"How did you find every part?"

"Well, there's a long, windy, and very unbeleivable explanation."

"I'm list---" the wind picked up, whistling and cutting her off. Brian grabbed the tarp and held it down until the blast of sand subsided.

"I'm listening."

Brian sighed dramatically, lifting the tarp. He stared at the skeleton fondly. Irene snapped her fingers in front of his face and he started talking.

"He was in peices all over the plot. See here," he pointed to a jagged break in the femur, "this is not natural or from force, so to speak."

Irene opened her mouth but Brian talked right over her.

"From here to there," he gestured down the length of the shattered leg, "was all bitten off."

"What?!"

"I know, great, isn't it?" Brian rolled back on his heels and smiled at the bones, looking like a proud father by his sleeping son.

"There's nothing big enough to do that, is there?"

"Nope."

She stared at him in exasperation. Brian could be such an annoying jerk.

"So we don't know what killed him."

"Only he can tell us."

Irene finally realized what he was getting at, "That's where I come in..."

"Precisely!" he beamed.

Irene spent a few minutes staring thoughtfully at the remains.

"How old was he?"

Brian looked at her, and she knew his hazel eyes were troubled underneath the dark lenses.

"That's just it, we don't know. There are no real signs of growth in sight. It's like he was eternally 35..."

Irene sighed, "So he was 35?"

She was rewarded with a sheepish grin, "Yeah."

Irene laughed and stood up. Brian pulled forward the tarp and weighted it down with rocks. Then he followed her to the ladder.

"I'll take him. You are aware that my experiments have never worked before?"

"I don't care, the fairies stole him, remember?"

She clapped a hand to his shoulder. There was a friendly silence, and then he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She punched him in the arm, and he pretended to flinch away in pain.

"Ow, hey!"

"Brian?"

"God... yeah?"

"Is any of this legal?"

"Absolutely not," he kissed her cheek in a brotherly way and climbed back up the ladder. Irene took another look at the tarp and followed him. The moment she reached the top rung, the wind began howling again.