A/N: So... YAY for MSR! :) Thanks for reviewing! Time for more creepiness!
Scully pulled her dress on over her head. She zipped up the side of her dress, and she checked her reflection in the mirror.
"That was a good use of our afternoon," Mulder commented from his bed. He was still laying naked under the sheets.
"Get up! We have to actually work now..."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure what we just did was work. I, actually, think that that was the hardest that I have ever worked in my whole life!" he told her, smiling mischievously.
"Really?! That's just sad, then. It didn't appear to me that you were working very hard at all..." she returned his smile with one of her own.
"Now, I know you're lying. I was there for the reaction you just had..."
"Okay! Stop it! Get up. Get dressed. And let's go!" she ordered.
"Yes, mam!"
Mulder hopped out of bed and grabbed his clothes.
"Do I really have to put the suit back on?"
"Wear what you want, but I'm not changing. So I can be overdressed, if you like."
"To me, you're always overdressed..."
"Mulder!" she complained. "Just put clothes on!"
He obeyed her request, dropped the suit, and grabbed his jeans from yesterday off of the chair and pulled them on. He then dug through a pile of clothes that had been dumped onto the floor. He grabbed a gray t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He shoved his feet into a pair of socks and then into his tennis shoes.
"Ready!" he happily announced.
Before they left the room he grabbed a light-weight baby blue sweater to take along just in case either one of them, but mostly Scully, got cold. He knew she most likely would.
Once they were outside again, they noticed that the weather had drastically changed. There were black clouds in the distance, and the wind had picked up. There was definitely a storm on the way.
Mulder held the door open for Scully as they entered the police station.
"I'm happy you two could come over," Sheriff Clark greeted them. "Something has been bothering me about this case."
"What isn't bothersome about this case," Scully muttered. Mulder nudged her.
"Well, that's true, Agent Scully," he said, leading them to a small conference room in the back.
The room had all four of the murder victims' driver's license pictures tacked to a corkboard. They were placed in the order that they had died, from Tina to Claire. Crime photos were tacked up underneath the girls' formal pictures. Scully shuddered a bit at the crime photos. Mulder placed his hand on her back, now purely a reflex.
"In my opinion not only do the victims have something in common, but these murders all have one thing in common. They are extravagantly violent. That bugs me. They were not raped, and nothing was taken from any of these women, besides their lives. So, my question is: What's the point? Why is he doing this?"
"Sometimes there's not a clear reason. I think the fact that they were all young and redheaded probably triggered something in him. He most likely, obviously, has something against this type of woman. Maybe a mother issue or something?" Mulder speculated.
Suddenly a thought occurred to Scully.
"What made you call the FBI?" she asked.
"We don't have the type of experience to handle a serial killer. We needed help," Sheriff Clark answered.
Scully walked over to the corkboard and stared at the pictures. The Sheriff was right. These crimes were overly violent. Just the type of thing that the FBI would handle, even if the Sheriff and his officers were experienced enough to handle it on their own.
Scully turned around to face the men. "I think that these murders were meant to bring us here."
Mulder gave her an odd look. "Yeah, we're here to investigate these murders..."
"What I mean, Mulder, is that someone wanted us- or me- here, so they went around and brutally murdered redheaded women, knowing that the FBI would be contacted to come investigate. These innocent women were just a means to an end."
Mulder still looked at her like she was crazy. "How would someone know that the FBI would choose you to investigate?"
"Who's idea was it to ask for a redheaded agent?" Scully asked the sheriff.
"Mine," he told them, looking very confused.
Scully steadied him for a minute. She didn't think that the sheriff was the killer, but she wondered if someone had slipped the idea into his head without him really knowing it.
"Did anyone suggest the idea to contact me to you? Or was anyone overly supportive about the idea?"
"It was my idea. Everyone was really supportive. I wouldn't say anyone was 'overly supportive' about it."
"No offense, Scully, but I think that you're wrong about this."
She fixed her serious gaze on Mulder. "You have your opinions, I have mine."
"I'm not really sure about what you're trying to get at, but I'm going to have to agree with Agent Mulder."
"Again, I respect your opinions, but I'm sticking to mine."
"Anyway," Mulder began, turning to the sheriff, putting his back to Scully, "what would you like for us to do?"
"I'm going to speak to the coroner again," Scully spoke up. "I want to ask him about the other autopsies."
"That would be helpful," Sheriff Clark told her. "I'll send Luke with you." He turned back to Mulder, "I'd like for us to go over these pictures again."
Mulder nodded, though he didn't like the idea of Scully being somewhere he couldn't keep his eyes on her.
"I'll be fine," she whispered to him, patting his hand after she had noticed the look on his face.
"Luke!" the sheriff called out the door. "I want you to take Agent Scully to see the coroner."
"Will do, sir!"
Luke was an attractive young man of about 23. He looked like he belonged on a beach somewhere. His skin was tanned, and he had blond hair and blue eyes.
Once Scully and Luke were outside, they wished that they were back inside. It had started to lightly rain, but the wind was cold and whipped Scully's hair around her face.
"What's it like to be in the FBI?" he asked her as they made the walk across the small town square, trying to keep their minds off of the bad weather.
"Kind of crazy, to be honest," she replied, pushing her hair back.
"It's something that I've thought about, but I'm not sure if I would be ready to live in a big city."
"I think that you would be surprised of how easy you could adjust."
"Hmm, I'm not sure. I'm a simple country boy. I love pick-up trucks, country music, and beer!"
She laughed. "I think Mulder does too, he would just never admit it!"
They weren't even halfway across the deserted town square when a man emerged from behind a tree, closest to Scully. Scully froze, grabbing Luke's arm. The man was dressed in all black with his head and face covered by a black ski mask. It was him. Scully knew it. This was the moment that she had been waiting for. She was thankful that Mulder wasn't there so she wouldn't have to worry about him.
Luke drew is gun and pointed it at the man.
"Take the mask off!" he ordered.
The man ignored Luke. His eyes were locked with Scully's. He was familiar to her. She thought of all of the people she had met, trying to place him. She couldn't do it.
"Come with me," the man said to Scully, extending his hand.
Scully looked at it, contemplating for a second whether or not to accept the offer. However, she felt herself shake her head no.
"Take your mask off and step back!" Luke ordered again with his gun aimed at the man.
Scully mentally scolded herself. She had forgotten her gun. It was laying on the desk in Mulder's bedroom.
Luke stepped in front of Scully.
"Take your-"
Luke was cut off as the man suddenly lunged forward and slashed his arm with a knife that he had obviously kept hidden. Blood began to spurt out from the wound. Scully knew that the man had hit an artery. She knew that she should do something, but she couldn't move. The man peered at her over Luke's head.
"Run!" Luke yelled at her, waking her from her shocked state.
Scully obeyed. She turned and sprinted back to the police station. She heard gun shots and the sound of foot steps running behind her. She didn't look back. She reached the glass door, pulled it open, and flung herself inside. Only then did she turn around. The man in the mask stood a mere twenty feet away, staring through the glass at her.
"Help!" Scully yelled. "Help me!"
At that, he then turned and ran back into the woods. Scully pushed the door open, three officers following her out into the rain.
"He went that way," she told them, pointing towards the woods. She knew that she couldn't go after him unarmed. "He's armed," she warned them.
They quickly disappeared behind the trees. She stared after them, hoping that they would be successful. Suddenly, she felt two strong hands on her arms, turning her around.
"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed, looking her over. "Are you okay?"
Panic was written on his face. His hands roamed over the front of her torso and arms, as if he was searching for something. She slapped his hands away, embarrassed that he was touching her chest in public.
"What are you doing?!" she asked him, very confused.
"You're covered in blood," he told her.
For the first time she looked down at herself. He was right. She was practically covered in blood. Scully looked up at Mulder and then down the road. She took off sprinting. Mulder, of course, followed. She came to a stop at a lump in the street. Mulder recognized the lump as Luke. Scully dropped to her knees next to the body. It didn't take long to see that he was dead. There was a gunshot wound to his head. He gun was gone. Scully covered her face with her hands and began to sob.
Mulder dropped down next to her. He gathered her into his arms and got to his feet. Sheriff Clark and a few of his officers were walking towards them.
"Sorry," he told them softly. "He's dead."
Mulder then walked past them, carrying Scully back to there motel room. She had had enough excitement for one day. At the very least, he needed to get her cleaned up. He knew, however, that she would need more than that. Just when she was starting to get back to her old self, this had to happen. Mulder was seriously thinking about packing their things and leaving in the morning. He would have the FBI send other agents. He knew that Scully couldn't handle this anymore. Heck, he couldn't handle it anymore.