Title: Andrew
Author: Diane A. Doty
E-mail: Jadecow14@aol.com
Disclaimer: The X-Files owned by CC, 1013 and Fox. Not me. No infringement
Warnings: Violence. Cursing (the usual)
Distribution: Go ahead, just ask me first, K?
Summary: A case where people are found dead, with their doors and windows
locked turns nearly fatal for our favorite Agents
(Hope that sounded good, normally I can't write summaries)
Category: X
Rating: PG-13 (violence, cursing)

(Got it all???)

Here we go:
By: Diane A. Doty
started: 12/10/97
finished: 12/19/97
Fox Mulder ran after the dark figure ahead, wondering how he got into these
situations. It seemed like every time he turned around, someone different
was shooting at him, or running from him. And why was he ALWAYS alone at
these times? Just once, he wanted Scully to be next to him, making sure he
didn't wind up getting the crap beat out of him or winding up with a new
hole somewhere. Or worse.

Luck. That had to be it. Though it wouldn't be considered bad luck, it was
more dumb luck. Somehow, he managed to be alone, and usually not ready for
an attack. Like tonight. He had dropped Scully off to do an autopsy on the
latest victim, and returned to the motel. As he was entering his room,
someone jumped out at him from inside the room. The man knocked him over and
ran out of the room. Mulder, never thinking twice, until this moment, ran
after him. He had been chasing the man for about five blocks, through a
poorly lit alley. Never any well lit alleys, were there?

"F.B.I. FREEZE!" Mulder yelled again, obviously the guy wasn't stopping.
Mulder mumbled several curses under his breath. He wondered if those words
had any effect on people. It seemed that anytime he said it no one stopped.

"I have a gun pointed at your head, stop, put your hands up, and turn
around." Mulder said, raising his gun, but not breaking his stride. That got
a reaction, not the one he desired. Ofcourse.

The man ahead stopped, but didn't raise his hands. He turned, a gun raised.
Mulder dove for cover behind a pile of crates to his left. He heard the
sound as a bullet was discharged from the gun. Almost instantly he felt
white-hot pain in his left upper arm. He continued on momentum, head banging
into a sharp corner of one of the crates. He felt himself slip into
blackness almost instantly.
The dark figure walked over to the crates where Fox Mulder had jumped
behind. He looked down, proud to see that blood ran from the mans right
temple. 'Got him with one shot.' He thought.

Satisfied that the Agent was dead, the figure turned and walked calmly from
the scene.
Dana Scully tried her partner's cell phone for the umpteenth time. Where the
hell was he now? He told her he was going back to the motel to go over a
list of possible suspects in their case. Call when she needed to be picked
up. 'You think by now we'd rent two cars instead of one.' She thought. 'Then
again, with what our expense reports came out to, we're lucky to be able to
get the one.'

She was more worried then angry. She had called several times in the past
two hours. He would have answered her if he could. The best thing would be
to call a cab and go to the motel. If he was there, she'd chew him out for
making her worry. If not, she'd give him an hour before calling the police.
She deiced that she'd call once more.
As he woke up, he didn't know what hurt more, his head, or his arm. They
both seemed to scream at him, reminding him of how stupid he really is.
'Lets go chasing people alone through dark alleys and see how we wind up.'
He thought, still keeping his eyes closed. He honestly didn't want to open
them, out of fear of where he might be.

Mulder realized that he was alone. No sounds of people talking. Good,
atleast he wasn't in a hospital again. But where was he then? Was he still
in the alley? Forced to by curiosity, Mulder opened his eyes.

Still in the damned alley. He could barley see around him, but managed to
see his gun laying a few feet away from him. He picked it up, and shakily
rose to his feet. He felt nauseous and dizzy, making him fear for a moment
that he'd pass out. He leaned heavily against a crate, and managed not to
pass out.

He groaned to himself, realizing that he'd have to walk back to the hotel.
He began to lean away from the crate when he jacket chirped. Mulder wanted
to slap himself for being such an idiot. His cell phone!

"Mulder." He answered, hoping it was Scully.

"Where the hell are you?" Yep, it was.

"Umm...long story." Mulder said, noticing his words were slurred.

Scully noticed too. "Are you alright?" She asked, anger fading.

Mulder bit his lip, unsure of what to say. "Kind of...hit my head..."

"I'm not even asking how." Scully stated. "Where are you?"

"You know you sound like a broken record, Scully?" Mulder said, he could
almost feel her glare through the phone. "Actually, I'm not sure...like I
said, long story. I'm in an alley...Five or six blocks from the motel."

He heard her sigh over the phone. "Look around, find a street sign."

"Yes ma'am!" Mulder answered as he stumbled away from the crates.

Everything swirled in front of him again. He fought the dizziness and walked
on, intent on finding a street sign. As much as he hated to admit it, a
hospital was sounding pretty good at the moment. Atleast there he could lay
down and close his eyes.
Andrew Klitz closed his eyes, and sat back in the chair. He began a mental
search for Agent Mulder's partner. It took him several minutes to find her
thoughts out of a sea of millions. When he did find her, he knew something
was wrong.

Her thoughts should have been filled with grief. Instead they were more
worried. Like she knew that Mulder wasn't dead, but harmed or in danger. It
had been hours, how could she not know by now?

Unless the Agent wasn't dead. But he was sure he killed Mulder. There was
blood coming from the man's temple. Andrew was sure...Maybe...

Cursing to himself, Andrew pressed deeper into her thoughts. He was sure the
Agent was aware in some way or the other that he was in her mind. She had
too. It was risky, but Andrew had to know what was going on.

He managed to hear some of the conversation she was having. *where are
youlongstoryhitmyheadnosignsstaytherei'llfindyou* The words were jumbled for
some reason. Andrew never had that problem before, and wondered what caused

But it gave him some of the information he needed. Fox Mulder was still
alive. Andrew broke from Agent Scully, and began searching for Agent Mulder.

Mulder was easier to find. His thoughts stood out, more then others. He was
in pain, and tired. Andrew got a fix on Mulder's location, and smiled.

There was a red flash of light. When the flash was over, the chair that
Andrew Klitz had occupied was empty.
"Scully," Mulder started, after wandering around for a few minutes. "I can't
find any signs. I'm gonna walk back to the motel."

"No, Mulder, stay there. Don't move, I'll find you."

"If I don't know where I am, how the hell are you gonna find me?"

"Tell me which way you went."

Mulder frowned. "I don't remember. I wasn't really noticing where I was

Another sigh. "Then how were you going to walk back to the motel?"

Mulder found it hard to think of a reply. His head was like a jack hammer,
making it increasingly hard to think. He leaned against a wall and closed
his eyes. His arm felt like it was on fire, the pain spreading from the
wound to his hand.

"MULDER!" Scully shouted or the buzz in his head.


"I was calling your name, for the past two minutes! How hard did you hit
your head?"

"I guess hard." Mulder answered.

"How hard is hard?"

"Knocked me out..."

Her could almost see her frown over the phone. "For how long?"

"I dunno. About a half hour after I dropped you off."

"It's almost midnight. Four hours."


"Mulder, I have a trace on where you are. We're coming. Stay on the line."

"Oka-" Mulder began to answer, when the alley filled with a red light. "What
the fuck?" He mumbled, automatically reaching for his gun where he had
placed it in his shoulder holster, dropping the cell phone to the ground. It
broke, smashing into two pieces.

The light stopped, infront of him was a man. Mulder could tell by the shape
that it was the one he was chasing earlier. The man's eyes were cold,
hateful. There was a spark of something in them, however. Maybe enjoyment?

The man looked at the barrel of Mulder's gun. "Going to use that Agent
Mulder?" The man asked.

"What do you think?"

The man shrugged, then smiled. Mulder didn't like that smile. It wasn't
exactly evil, more like he was enjoying himself, in a sick way. In the
distance, he could hear sirens.

"I was sure you where dead." The man indicated the blood that was now almost
dry on his face. "Head hurt Agent Mulder?" Mulder glared back at him, but
said nothing. "Could be worse, I could've shot you in your head. That would
be terrible wouldn't it? What about your partner? What would she think? How
would she feel?" Mulder had a sick feeling that he knew what the man was
talking about. "I think I'm gonna reverse the situation."

"Don't you dare." The sirens were closer now, maybe a block away.

"What would you do about it?"

"Kill your sick fucking ass."

Another smile. "What if you can't?"

Mulder didn't reply, instead he raised his gun and fired. The man took the
bullet in the chest, but Mulder knew he missed his heart. The man stumbled
back, but remained on his feet. The red light began to fill the alley once
again. The man laughed.

"It's not that easy Agent Mulder." The man said, as the light disappeared.
The man was gone.

Mulder closed his eyes, hoping he was dreaming.
"All I'm saying, Scully, is that you should watch out." Mulder said, eyes
pleading with her.

"Mulder," She started. "Some one can't appear and disappear like that! Or be
shot in the chest and not seem affected."

"So your saying I was imagining it?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"You might not of saw what you think you saw."

"Oh. I only imagined part of it then. Makes me feel a hole lot better."

Scully sighed, studying her partner, frowning at the truly convinced look in
his eyes. Another look was there too. Fear. God, he was really afraid for
her well being.

He was laying in the hospital bed, she in the chair next to it. Around his
head was a bandage, matching the one on his arm from the bullet wound (What
was that? Three times he was shot?). The bullet had just grazed him, but it
needed stitches. That, along with the concussion he had from hitting his
head, Mulder was looking at another hospital stay.

"I'm not saying that at all." She started. "Just that he couldn't have
disappeared like that. He must have ran away."

"With a bullet wound? I'm sure I hit him Scully. Or how about the light?"

"You blacked out on the phone, didn't you?" She waited for him to nod, which
was a small movement, but still made him wince. She noticed it, but deiced
not to comment.

"I didn't 'black out' again."

"How do you know?"

It was his turn to sigh. He just knew. Damn it. Why the fuck wasn't she
listening? Some sick bastard made threats about killing her. He was tired,
frustrated as hell that they were making him stay in the damned hospital in
the first place, he didn't want to go through this. He didn't say anything,
just looked at her. What was there to say?

Scully saw the frustration and anger in his eyes. With his last sentence,
however, there was a mix of fear in his intense eyes.

She signed again. "Alright, I'll watch out." He gave her a weak smile,
showing his thanks. She continued. "I'm having a guard posted out side your

"He's not coming here." Mulder replied, his voice strong with certainty.

"How do you know?" Scully answered. "He had enough fun almost killing you
Her voice caught slightly on the word 'killing'. That brought her back to
reality. She was suddenly furious at him. He was stupid for following alone.
Mulder saw the look on her face, knowing that she was pissed. His eyes
questioned her.

"It was a stupid thing to do Mulder."

Mulder knew it was coming. "Yeah, well I trying to beat the record in the
FBI for the stupid things done on assignment."

"Oh, so the most times shot at, most hospital stays, most concussions,

"I get the point Scully." Mulder interrupted.

She continued, pretending not to hear him. "-cell phones lost or damaged
-adding one to that count from tonight ofcourse-, rental cars crashed, and
countless other 'records' are all just side effects from you main goal?" If
there wasn't for the faint hint of a smile on her lips, Mulder would have
been offended.

"Okay, it was a dumb thing to do. I admit that. But it didn't seem *that*
dumb at the time."

"No, not one of the dumber things you've done, but it wasn't too bright
Mulder. And at which point did you decide that it was dumb? Before or after
he pulled a gun?"

Mulder shrugged. "Alittle before."

She sighed. "The next time you do something dumb like that, if you don't
wind up in the hospital, you will wind up *afterwards*."

"Oooh! Matching shoulders, Scully?" Mulder said.

She smiled devilishly. "I wasn't planing to aim there." There was a glint in
her eyes that told him exactly where she planned on aiming.

"Ouch." He mumbled.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. "His disappearing thing would
explain how someone can kill someone when the person is locked in their
house." Mulder said.

The case had seemed to slip under their thoughts until then. Several people
in the area had
turned up dead, found in rooms with the windows and doors locked. On each
victim's right arm was a small injection mark, but no foreign substance was
found in any of the victims. Autopsies showed that the victims died when
their hearts stopped, but their was no sign of heart attack.

Scully nearly groaned. She had thought of that herself, but opted not to say
it, for fear of what theories where bound to come. Besides, she didn't want
to feed into his ideas of what happened.

She glanced at the clock. Almost four a.m. The doctors where going to be
pissed when they found out Mulder had stayed awake for so long. She
wondered if he was even tired. He had appeared to be when they picked him up
in the alley, but after being patched up, and given something for the pain
he was in, he seemed not to be tired at all. She, on the other hand, was
extremely tired. Her bed was looking great, no matter if it was a motel bed
or her own.

She stood, and stretched. "You need rest Mulder. We can finish this in the

Mulder nodded; they said their good-byes. "Be careful." He said just before
door shut.
Dana Scully slept peacefully in her motel room, not noticing the red light
that filled her room.

Fox Mulder was beyond angry. He paced across the hospital room and back,
while on the phone with one of the officers from the local police
department. He glanced at his watch, almost four in the afternoon.

The damn nurses had let him sleep until two. When he woke up he was
surprised to find that Chris Randell, the officer he was on the phone with,
had called looking for Scully. He had an appointment with her to visit the
site of the last murder at three thirty, and she hadn't shown up yet. She
wasn't answering the phone at the hotel or her cell phone. Worried, Mulder
told him to go to her motel room and call back.

"Are you sure she's not there?" Mulder asked.

"Positive. Her rental car's gone too."

"Sonufabitch!" Shouted, angered beyond belief. The bastard was playing with
him. After a pause, he asked: "Any signs of struggle?"

"None. There's a note on the table though."

Mulder kicked at the garbage can, sending it flying across the room, landing
with a thud against the opposite wall. He should be at the god damned motel,
not standing in middle of a fucking hospital room. "What's it say?" He
asked, not bothering to hid the anger in his voice.

"The envelope is addressed to you."

"Well open the damn thing!" Mulder replied, harsher then he should've. He
took several deep breaths, with his eyes closed. He opened them again, found
himself slightly calmer. Randell began reading the letter.

"Agent Mulder, Looks like one of you two didn't follow some friendly advice.
Allwell, it's your loss not mine. In case you do want to play hero and save
her: she's at 2317 Kringleton Drive. Not to sound to over dramatic, but I'm
one for the more dramatic one man rescues, so come alone. If you don't, then
it'll again be your loss. Yours truly, Andrew Klitz." Randell read, his
voice soft, frightened almost. "What are you going to do?" He asked after
the brief silence that followed the letter.

"What it says."

"That's not safe, or smart." Randell answered. Mulder know the guy was
young, probably just starting out as a cop.

"Neither is not believing him." Another brief pause. "Get over here, I'll be
waiting by the main entrance."

"Aren't you admitted to the hospital?" Randell questioned. This kid was
getting on his nerves.

"Doesn't matter, just get here. Hurry." Randell was silent. Mulder knew he
was making a choice. "Look, it's just a concussion. Right now, Agent
Scully's life is in danger, which is more important then a bump on the head.
Get here." Mulder added, hoping that it helped him make a choice.

He heard Randell sigh. "On my way."
Chris Randell began to exit the car when they pulled up to the house. Mulder
grabbed at his upper arm, grip tight.

"No. He said alone. Wait out here. If in ten minutes you don't see Scully or
me, call for back up, but tell them to approach with siren's off. Got it?"

Chris wanted to protest but stooped. Something in the Agent's angry eyes
told him not to. "Alright. Be careful."

"Carefull's my middle name." Mulder said, right hand on the door handle. He
smiled slightly before saying "Right after Never is."

He exited the car, and walked to the porch, gun drawn. He opened the door,
not surprised to find it unlocked. There was a stair case to the left of the
door, leading up, off to the right was the living room, and strait ahead was
a small hall way. The house was unfurnished. He checked the living room, not
surprised to find it empty. He re entered the hallway, and saw for the first
time, the light coming from under the door.

He opened it, not knowing what to expect. To his surprise, it was stairs
leading down to another door with a light also under it. He walked quietly
down the stairs, not waiting to ruin the advantage of surprise.

Gun raised, he opened the door. Scully was tied to a chair, masking tape
over her mouth. She looked tired and scared, but unharmed. Mulder crossed
the room quickly. Scully looked at him wide-eyed, saying something into the
tape. He bent down, and raised a hand to remove the tape from her mouth.

A foot landed square in his back, knocking him to the ground. He slid on the
floor, losing his gun which slid away from him. He gasped for breath, the
blow knocking the wind out of him. Before he could recover, a hand pulled
him to his knees by his hair. He saw the knife in the corner of his eye and
raised his hands just in time to stop it from cutting into his neck. He held
it tight, ignoring the pain as it's blade cut into his right hand. He
twisted it, and managed to get it way from the holder.

He was kicked in his back again, and knocked over before he could get to his
feet. He held tightly to the knife, not wanting to drop it like the gun.
Gasping, he pulled himself to his knees quickly, the stood and spun around.
Less the three feet away from him was the same man who he had seen in the
alley. Now, Mulder knew his name, Andrew Klitz.

Andrew smiled, the same smile as before, one that made Mulder shudder. He
had the same look in his eyes, hate mixed with enjoyment. A fucking sadist.
There's never a normal non-sadistic serial killer is there?

Mulder had shifted the knife so that it was in his right hand, though it
hurt badly. He had more power in his right arm, and his left still ached
from the gun shoot wound. Warm blood was running from his palm down his arm.
Being knocked around didn't help his once again pounding head. With effort,
he pushed all his own pains out of his mind, concentrating on Andrew.

The two stood, in a stand off waiting for each other to make a move. The
only sounds were of the three people breathing.

Andrew lept at him, left hand grabbing the knife, pushing it toward Mulder
who was caught off guard. His right shoulder plowed into Mulder's face,
knocking him back. The two landed on top of each other, Mulder on the
bottom. Andrew's hand on the knife pushed it into Mulder cutting into his
stomach. It wasn't a deep cut, but it hurt. Mulder freed his left hand from
under Andrew. He brought his hand back and hit him hard in the nose,
knocking Andrew back more, enough to give Mulder the chance to pull the
knife away. Blood gushed from Andrew's nose. He growled, grabbing for the
knife. Mulder swung it up, slicing across his face, from his right cheek to
the left part of his forehead, barely missing Andrew's eye. Andrew hit into
the knife with his fist, sending it flying across the room. Andrew began
raining blows down on him, and all Mulder could do was try to protect his
face. Then Andrew landed a hard blow to the same area that Mulder had hit
the night before. He went limp, dazed with pain.

Mulder felt more like he was watching a movie then actually being involved
in what was going on. Andrew stood, and kicked him several times in the
sides. Mulder barely felt it, he was to busy trying to keep his eyes open.

Convinced that Mulder wasn't going to be a problem, Andrew walked to a table
in the corner of the room. Scully was screaming through the tape, perhaps
his name or not, Mulder wasn't sure. He had to move, to do something, but
it hurt to much. If he didn't do something soon, the both of them would wind
up dead.

Andrew turned from the table, holding a needle. He walked to Scully, who
struggled against the ropes. Mulder got to his knees, knowing that it was
now or never. Everything swirled, but he managed to get to his feet. Mulder
looked around frantically for a weapon, seeing his gun laying on the ground,
several feet from him. Hoping that Andrew hadn't heard him move, Mulder
walked to it. To him, his pace seemed agonizingly slow. He picked up the
gun, and turned to Andrew. To his horror, he had already injected Scully
with whatever was in the needle.

"Turn around." Mulder said, cocking the gun for effect. He wished he sounded
as calm as his voice was. Andrew compiled. "Drop the needle." Again, Andrew
followed orders. Mulder hurried to him, pulling out his hand cuffs, but
never breaking eye contact with him.

He chained him to an exposed pipe on the wall, hoping it would keep him from
disappearing. That done, Mulder rushed to his partner. She was looking up
and him, he could see the fear in her eyes. Hurrying, he removed the tape
from her mouth and untied her. She was showing no effects of the unknown
drug yet, but Mulder was reluctant to turn away from her to Andrew.

"What did you give her?" Mulder questioned, his face inches from Andrew's
bloody one, gun held loosely in his right hand. Andrew made no attempt to
reply. Anger flared in Mulder's eyes as he raised the gun, placing it under
Andrew's chin. He pressed hard, warning him. "What the hell did you give
her? Tell me before I blow your fucking brains all over this wall." His
voice was almost a growl.

"A little something to relax her." Andrew answered, smiling slightly.

Mulder tightened his jaw, restraining himself from pulling the trigger.
"WHAT?" He was screaming now.

"I'm not sure of the name, but it will kill her." Mulder felt his hand shake
with the force that he was holding back. Andrew nodded towards her. "I'd
help her, she looks to be in a bit of distress."

Mulder backed away, not wanting to make the mistake of turning his back on
Andrew while being so close. Scully was on the ground, unconscious and not
breathing. Mulder dropped to his knees next to her, searching for a pulse
and finding none. He screamed for Randell, hoping that he heard him.

Mulder began C.P.R. praying that she'd breath on her own. Between breathing
in her mouth, Mulder screamed for Randell. Finally the young man heard him,
and came to the stairs.

"GET AN AMBULANCE! NOW!" Mulder screamed, never missing a beat on the C.P.R.

"Okay." He answered, already halfway out of the house.

A steady stream of curses ran through his mind as he tried to bring back his
partner. Tears were flowing, and he dared not to look at his watch, afraid
that he had gun past the time a person could go without breathing. When he
felt for a pulse, he thankfully found one. In the background he could hear
Andrew laughing.

"Scared the shit outa you didn't it Agent Mulder?"

Mulder didn't turn, didn't take off the rising and falling chest in front of
him. "I can kill you now, you fucking sadistic bastard." His voice was

Behind him, Andrew laughed again. "Someday, you'll wish you did."

Mulder was going to reply, but the room was suddenly filled with people.
Hands pulled him away from Scully while two paramedics loaded her onto a

One of them turned to him, indicating the blood on her face and chest. "Is
that hers?" He asked.

Mulder shook his head, "It's mine. She stooped breathing, I gave her C.P.R."
He held up his injured hand for explanation.

The paramedic frowned, then nodded. The two started up the stairs, holding
Scully, who was still unconscious. Mulder began to follow them up the
stairs, but was stopped by several officers.

"Agent Mulder, we need an explanation as to what went on." One said.

"It can wait." Mulder replied, surprised that his voice was still horse.

"No. It can't."

Mulder glared at him chest heaving. "I am going with my partner to the
hospital." His voice was strong, he almost made it past them when one
grabbed his arm. His left one, where he had been shot. During the fight, he
had luckily not torn the stitches. The officer's tight grip made him stop,
afraid to pull away and hurt it more. Again, it felt like from his upper arm
to his hand felt like it was on fire. "Let go, please." Mulder said through
clenched teeth. Why the hell were they giving him such a hard time?

"No. We want to know what when on." The man still held his arm, tight.

"Let me say this for you slowly. I. Am. Going. To. The. Hospital. With. My.
Partner. It. Can. Wait. Slow enough?"

"Listen you little arrogant shit-"

"NO! You listen to me. I am going with her, she is my partner. She was
almost killed, by the fucking asshole cuffed to the wall over there. I am
going with her to see how she is doing. All you need to know right now is
that she was taken by him, and he left a note for me to come here. I can, we
fought, I cuffed him to the wall right after he injected her with something.
The needle will be somewhere. She stopped breathing, I did C.P.R. I also
suggest that you keep him hand cuffed to something. Now let go."

Mulder felt his anger rising. That was happening alot lately, wasn't it?
He'd have to think about that at another time. Anger management wasn't
always his best area, but he never had this problem before. He knew that if
the man didn't let go soon, he was going to wind up decking the idiot.

He was spared any such incident by one of the paramedics that ran down the
stairs. The young woman looked upset. "Agent Mulder, she's awake. She says
that you need medical attention too, and she won't let us pull away without

Mulder bit back a laugh, that sounded way to much like Scully. "On my way."
He said, glaring at the man who still held his arm. The man let go. "I'll
give you a detailed report on what happened soon. And I think that asshole
needs a hospital." Mulder said, then turned and went up stairs to his
Fox Mulder entered his apartment, thankful to be back in D.C. and done with
the case. He sat down on the couch heavily. The past week had been on big
blur of paper work.

He had given a formal report to Skinner earlier that day, that seemed less
then happy with Mulder's actions. Not that that one was a surprise. Then
there was the extent of injuries he inflicted on Andrew that had upset the
A.D.. Mulder had broken his nose and the slash across his face had taken
nearly a hundred stitches to close. Not that Mulder himself hadn't sustained
any injuries. His hand needed stitches and would keep him out of the field
for atleast a month. Skinner deiced that Mulder's actions during the fight
were not wrong, and it was self defense.

Because of his head injury (which he had worsened during the fight) they had
made him stay in the hospital for most of the week. It would be another
large expense report because of the hospital stays -Scully had to stay over
night for observations-, and the damaged cell phones. Not a surprise their

What had upset him most was the drug that was given to Scully. It was
something close a muscle relaxer, but none of the doctors had seen it
before. They had found several more of the needles filled with the substance
in Andrew's apartment. Apparently, it was the way he killed his victims.

For days, the question plagued him. If it was such an instant death, and
there was no challenge for Andrew, why did he kill? Finally, he realized the
answer after a family member of one of the victims had came down to the
station to see if they recognized Andrew. She said that Andrew had attended
the funeral. It was the emotional pain that he caused on the others that
loved the person that was killed. That would also explain why he didn't
inject Scully with he drug until Mulder had came.

Andrew, signed a confession, but never said why or how. Mulder had a good
idea how he got into the rooms, but Andrew didn't admit it. At that minute,
Andrew was sitting in a jail cell, awaiting trail.

Mulder layed down, and closed his eyes.
In his cell, Andrew Klitz resisted going to the Agent now. He'd let him feel
safe first, then make his move. He smiled, ignoring the pain that it caused
when it pulled on his stitches. Pay back's a bitch.
The End

What? You want more? Well that's it. Let me know what you think. Please? If
I get enough feedback, I'll do a sequel.jadecow14@aol.com (HINT HINT)

Thanks for reading,