Here I am again, people. As far as I can tell my little problems with my server have stopped so I'm trying this again. Note, for those of you following my work, this is not the long one, Commitment, I've been promising. *That* one will have to wait until I have a lot of free time on my hands for typing (unless I learn how to upload, that is.) This one is for everyone out there who knows what it's like to have a story idea stuck in your head to the exclusion of everything else. It was either write this or turn in a term paper that was half dialogue and I don't think my G.P.A. would like that. . . Characters copyrighted 1993 by CC and 10-13 (the reason for Mulder's birthdate?) productions. Story copyrighted 1995 by the author. TRIVIAL PURSUITS by Jessica Archibald "Mulder?" "Yes, Scully?" "We haven't seen a road sign in two hours." "And?" "We haven't seen a town for three." "*And*?" "Mulder, when are you going to admit we're lost?" "Scully, I'm a federal agent. I don't get lost -- " "You get directionally challenged?" "Heh." "Would you be insulted if I dug out the map?" "What map?" "The map that the rental agency provided." "Um, they were supposed to provide a map?" "Mulder. . . " "What did I do?" " . . . " "I didn't quite catch taht, Scully." "Never mind, Mulder." "How can we be lost. We're in the middle of America for crying out loud." "In the middle of the Arizona desert, Mulder. I'ts big. Really big." "Kind of like the state lotto right?" "Bigger." "Oh. Ah Scully, I think we're lost." "Pull over." "Why?" "Pull over. I'm driving." "No, I'm driving." "Mulder, you got us lost. I've driving." "If I don't listen, are you going to shoot me again?" "Don't tempt me." * * * * * "Mulder, wake up." "Huh, wha -- where are we?" "You're the one with the photographic memory. I was hoping that you could tell me." "i would have to have seen the place before, Scully." "I know. Didn't we pass by here earlier." "I'm not sure. The sun was out earlier. All I see is a dark road and the shadows of some cactus plants." "go back to sleep, Mulder." "I thought you might say that." * * * * * "My turn to drive." "We're doomed." "Scully . . ." "Sorry." * * * * * "hey, Scully!" "Mulder, this had better be good -- oh, my God, it's a town. How'd you . . . " "Rolled down the window and followed the smell of fresh baking." "Don't mention fodd, Mulder. I'm starving." "So am I." "It's eight o'clock in the morning! We spent the whole night driving around. . . and we didn't run out of gas!?" "Maybe it's an X-File." "Mulder, we've just found our way out of the desert. Don't ruin the moment." * * * * * "And I see in your latest report that the two of you spent an entire night driving around the Arizona desert." "Yes, Director Skinner." "Agent Mulder, was this your way of doing some sightseeing?" "No, sir." "Pursuing an unknown flying object?" "Un*identified* flying obj -- ouch, Scully!" "What Agent Mulder means, sir, is that we . . ." "Yes, Agent Scully?" "WE got lost. Sir." "You let Agent Mulder drive didn't you, Scully?" "Um, yes, sir." " . . . " "Sir?" "I said at least we found the two of you this time." * * * * * "Nobody found us, Scully." "I don't think that's what Skinner meant, Mulder." "Oh. Next time, you drive." "I thought you might say that." **************************** There. Now that that's out of my system I can go write a paper for my class, although writing for this group is a lot more fun. But if I flunk out I'd lose my Net time . . . ;-)! Comment welcome at larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca and I've got the germ of an idea for another funny little short story mentioned briefly in The Faraway Nearby (bonus points to those of you who can guess what it might be *snicker*). Let me know if I should quit while I'm ahead. Jess "Justice will overtake the makers and witnesses of lies." --Heraclitus We now return you to your regularly scheduled newsgroup. From larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Mon Oct 07 14:26:13 1996 Hello, all! This was written for the M&S challenge *waaayyy* back when involving Mulder, Scully and a plane. So I'm a little slow. *grin* Oh, well. The original Trivial Pursuits was a short little comedy about M&S getting lost in the desert. This is also far from a serious drama. You've been warned! Disclaimer: We all know who owns what, right? *sigh* I hate this part. DS and FM belong to CC and 10-13. No permission given and no infringement intended. DS (Doug Shelton) and ZB belong to me. Time line note: This story takes place well before the revelations in Deductive Reasoning and Conspiracy. I'm still working on the next one in that series. Summary -- C . . . Scully and Bateman discover that a suspect's airplane does not make the best transportation. ____________________________ T h e X - F i l e s TRIVIAL PURSUITS II: FALLING DOWN 1/3 by Jess Archibald larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca ___________________________ Dana Scully hunkered down lower beside the tree as another shotgun blast slammed into the trunk, spraying wood chips in a foot wide radius. From her position she could just make out the car, two tires punctured by shots, windshield now non-existent. Yet another damage deposit down the drain. Another shot boomed over her head, off into the trees further away. Over the ringing of her ears, she could hear Zoe Bateman cursing under her breath. "You ain't takin' me nowhere!" bellowed their shooter. "No kidding," Zoe said, coming up beside Dana. "He wrecked his truck as well as our car!" Her tone was apologetic. "Guess backup would have been the better choice." "Think it would have helped?" Dana asked sourly. She raised her voice. "All we want to do is talk to you, Mr. Jacobs!" He fired again and both women ducked. "Let's just shoot him," Zoe suggested. "Or would that fall under the category of cruelty to dumb animals?" "Zoe . . . " "All right, all right. Circle or cover?" "Circle," Dana replied, moving off. "Okay, Dana, but if he sights on you, I'm shooting him -- misunderstanding or not." Dana nodded and started working her way around the tree line to a point behind the rampaging six foot two redneck. Misunderstanding was right. She and Mulder had flown to Ohio to investigate a series of disappearances involving a group of airport workers. One of them had supposedly vanished from an airborne plane. Mulder's theories ranged from alien abductions to living planes existing off the energy of the missing workers. Zoe and Doug Shelton had already been working on the case but welcomed the extra help. The four had agreed to work different angles to see where they converged. Dana was interviewing witnesses when she encountered Zoe at the car rental counter. They had the same person on their interview list, Dana felt he was a witness, Zoe was looking at a suspect. They decided to drive the sixty miles to his farm together. He hadn't been overjoyed to see them. As soon as they pulled up, he was out on his porch with a shotgun in hand, shouting at them to get away, that he wasn't going to be next. They had tried to calm him down, but he wasn't having any of it, opening fire and shooting indiscriminately, driving them back far enough that he could reload without their being able to get close to him. That left the more difficult alternative. Dana had managed to get to the bushes beside the porch. Zoe was drawing his fire by breaking from cover then diving back at the last moment. When he started to pause and reload again, Dana made her move. She vaulted onto the porch, dodging the shotgun barrel that he swung at her, slamming it aside in an attempt to knock it out of his hand. He looked surprised to see her, jumping back in shock as Zoe burst from cover, sprinting over the distance, gun drawn. It was over in a matter of seconds. ******************************** "Well?" Dana looked over at Zoe expectantly as she came back out of the farm house. "No one else lives here and there's no phone." Zoe glared at Evan Jacobs. "How do they call you for work?" He stared at her, unblinking, still believing they were there to make him disappear. The handcuffs didn't help but neither Dana nor Zoe felt like wrestling him to the ground again. Dana sighed. "Car's wrecked, we're out of the cellular serive area -- how do we get back to civilization?" "We could walk -- or wait for Doug and Mulder to wonder where we are." Zoe saw the look she was getting. "Or not . . . there is another way -- but I don't think you're going to like it." **************************** Fox Mulder was fascinated. What child hadn't been enthralled by airplanes, drawn into a world of wonder? He'd just had the chance to indulge the child inside of him by spending the last couple of hours poking around in the service bay at the airport, ostensibly trying to solve the mystery of the missing people. Doug Shelton had wandered in about five minutes ago, eyeing the older agent in amusement. "Man, I wish I had a camera." Mulder grinned, wiping the grease from his face and hands. "Bureau poster child material?" "Not in this lifetime. Have you seen either of our partners?" "Not since this morning. I know Scully was going to drive around doing interviews." "Yeah, Zoe was doing the same sort of thing. Neither of them are answering their phones." Mulder told his stomach to stop clenching. "They could be out of the service area." "Maybe." Doug checked his watch. "I've got an appointment with the air traffic controller in ten minutes at the tower." Mulder could read the unspoken request. "I'll do some digging and see if I can find those two." ******************************* "No." "Dana . . . " "Forget it." "I told you, you weren't takin' me nowhere." "Shut *up*, Mr. Jacobs." "Not a chance, Zoe." Dana stood with her hands on her hips and her lips pressed into a thin line, surveying the purposed escape route. A small twin engine plane, looking for all the world like an oversized dragonfly, was parked on the other side of Jacob's farm. "Why don't we just use the radio and call for a pickup?" Dana suggested. "We could . . . " "Zoe . . . you want to fly that thing, don't you?" "Who, me?" The woman's eyes flashed with delight. "Yes, please!" Jacobs started shouting again. ****************************** Mulder had traced Scully's movements to the car rental counter inside the airport. There he interviewed the rental clerk and discovered that his partner and Bateman had left together. "Did they say where they were going?" he asked. The man looked at him disprovingly. "I don't eavesdrop on my clients." "Of course not . . . " Mulder smiled harmlessly. "But if they were talking loudly . . . " Scully was the model of discretion but Bateman had been known to let her excitement get the better of her. The clerk sighed. "All I know is that they were planning to drive for a fair distance." **************************** Since Jacobs' objections were not rational in foundation, Dana finally relented and agreed to use the plane to get back to the airport. "You've done this before, right?" she asked, watching Zoe running through the pre-flight routine. "Dana, relax, all right? Would I *want* to do this if I didn't know how?" She grinned at her friend. "When Dad was busy at the embassies I would sneak over to the American airbases and beg the flyboys for some lessons. Once I even got some tips from the REF boys." "Any formal training?" "A bit. Trust me, okay?" Jacobs was in the passenger area of the plane, buckled into his seat with his hands cuffed in front of him. The plane could seat eight plus a pilot and copilot, leading the two agents to presume Jacobs also took charter flights out as a sideline. "Okay, we're ready, Dana. Strap yourself in." Dana followed her friend's advice, wishing her jumpy nerves would calm themselves down. ********************************* " . . . and we have no diea why our folks are vanishing on us." Doug blinked and roused himself from the semi-trance the controller's monotone had instilled in him. The man had been going for twenty plus minutes without giving any indication that he was winding down. All in all, Doug hadn't learned anything new aside from a surefire cure for insomnia that Mulder should try out. "Ah -- thank - you, sir," he said calmly, trying not to yawn. The man nodded placidly and switched gears, beginning to lecture the federal agent on federal funding cutbacks. At that point, Doug sorely missed his partner, who would have gotten them both out of there in a black haired whirlwind, oblivious to hurt feelings when they were working a case. Doug had better manners, much to his disgust. Before the controller got too far, someone came running in. "Sir, we've found Harris' body!" That got Doug's full attention. Harris had been the man who vanished from the airborne plane. "Where?" he demanded, stepping in front of the air traffic controller. "Someone opened up their baggage trunk an' there he was. Looks like a broken neck!" Well that solved one mystery -- but opened another. Who killed Harris and did he or she kill the others as well? ****************************** Mulder looked up as Shelton arrived, with nearly a half dozen airport officials in tow, looking almost glad for the respite from his interview. On his way back from the rental center, Mulder had stumbled upon the ruckus caused by the discovery of the body. Ordering the scene sealed off, he sent an employee to find those in charge and hopefully Shelton as well. The body was in one of the few pieces of luggage that had not yet been claimed until today. Apparently the smell had been a good clue to the owner that something was wrong. Shelton wrinkled his nose in brief disgust before joining his fellow agent. "Who says frequent flyer points are a bad thing?" Mulder deadpanned as they examined the body, waiting for the police to arrive. Shelton nodded absently before turning to the airport director. "You remember that staff list you've been stalling me on all week?" His normally easy going manner was replaced by the hard edge of anger. "I want it. Now." The man nodded, looking a little green before he fled down the hall. Mulder turned his attention back to the dead man. "Neck was snapped, Shelton. We're looking for someone fairly strong. Hard to fall and break your neck in an airplane." "We need to find out who worked last with each of the missing people," Shelton said, hunkering down to take a better look. "Any luck finding the ladies?" "They rented a car and drove off somewhere. Probably to interview someone." "Zoe had a suspect in mind." "Any idea who?" "If you had a suspect and you wanted to get first crack at him would you tell Dana?" "If I valued my life, yeah." The look Shelton have him was not amused. "Let's just say I'm not very intimidating to Zoe." "Great . . . " ********************** Dana had to admit the view was spectacular. The sky was clear of any cloud cover and the ground beneath them seemed to stretch out forever. After checking on Jacobs, she went back into the curtained off cockpit to settle into the co-pilots seat. "He seems better now. Calmer." Zoe nodded. "Think he's faking this paranoid attitude?" "You're the psychologist." "I'm the psychologist flying the plane. You're the one checking on him." Dana sighed. "I think he's scared and that he was afraid we were there to make him disappear like everyone else." Pushing the yoke down a bit, Zoe nodded again. "Okay. I'll buy that. But what are we going to do with him when we land? Let him go or charge him or what? He *did* shoot at us and you know that Doug and Mulder are going to be very upset with this guy when they find out." Dana smiled, glancing back at Jacobs through a gap in the curtains. Both their partners were over six foot, Doug Shelton especially, and tended to get very annoyed with those who tried to kill their partners. The look on Jacobs face froze the smile on hers. He looked at her, eyes wild -- and smiled. ***************************** They'd taken over one of the airport's conference rooms. "Okay," Shelton said, leaning back in his chair to get a distanced view of the sheaf of paper in front of him. "I've got a list of three names." "I've got two," Mulder replied. "Both of them worked with most of the victims before they vanished." They'd split reports up to save time, searching for a viable suspect. Switching lists and coming up with a match took only seconds. "Evan Jacobs," Mulder said flatly. Shelton nodded. "Let's go find him." ******************************* Zoe had a problem. Tapping her finger along the fuel gauge, she frowned, tapped harder, ears attuned to the slight stuttering sound coming from the engine. "Uh -- Dana?" she called, biting her lip. "Dana, could you come up here for a second. I really need to talk to you." In the rear of the plane, Jacobs started to laugh. The redheaded agent cast a nervous look over her shoulder as she came forward. "What's wrong?" "The -- ah -- the fuel gauge is stuck. It's not changing. I thought we had a full tank when we left!" "And?" "Hear that hiccoughing noise? The one you're probably trying to ignore?" "Yeah." "That's the engine. We're running out of fuel." "Can we reach the -- " Zoe was shaking her head. "No. And this is a wooded area. No good place to land." "We're going down?" "Unless this thing is going to sprout real wings in the next few minutes. Dammit, he knew we didn't have enough fuel and he didn't say anything -- listen to him now!" Jacobs was laughing and mumbling to himself. "He doesn't even care enough to try and save his own life . . . " Dana felt sick. "See if you can raise the tower while I try and dump what fuel we have left. We're going down one way or another and I'd rather not do it with flammable material still on board . . . " ****************** end part one From larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Mon Oct 07 14:27:07 1996 Disclaimer in part one TRIVIAL PURSUITS II: FALLING DOWN by Jess Archibald larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Doug had gone back up to the control tower to update the air traffic controller and see if anyone there knew Evan Jacobs and felt like sharing some thoughts about him. Mulder was securing the man's address. Or he had been. "Shelton!" Doug turned to see Mulder coming in. "Got it?" "Yeah, but we're not the first ones to ask for it today." "Don't tell me . . . " Mulder nodded. "Scully *and* Bateman both visited the personnel office to get it." Doug checked his watch. "It's been four or five hours." "They might not be back yet. It's a long trip." Mulder didn't sound like he was buying it either. "Sir," one of the radio technicians was saying suddenly. "Sir, I think you should hear this." So saying the man put whatever he was listening to over the room's speakers. " . . . repeat this is Agent Scully of the FBI requesting confirmation from Ohio Tower. Please respond." "We read you, Agent Scully. Go ahead." Doug and Mulder both edged closer to the radio set. "Do you have radar contact with a small plane coming in from the northwest?" The tension in her voice was as audible as the words. "Roger that. Uh -- it appears to be losing alititude." "We're running out of fuel and are attempting an emergency landing." "Where the hell did they get a plane?" Doug muttered. Mulder shook his head, waving him into silence. "You're over the woods, Agent Scully. Can your pilot reach open ground?" "Negative." The normal background static became more pronounced. "Can you notify Agents Mulder and Shelton as to our where abouts? Agent Bateman and Evan Jacobs are with me." The tech craned his neck around and spotted the two feds. "They're already here, ma'am." Mulder gestured for the microphone. "Scully, you two all right?" "Mulder, we're in a plane that's about to crash! Aside from that we're just great." "Listen to me. We've found a body here -- one of the missing workers. We were about to come interview Jacobs." "Yeah, well, *that* explains a lot," came Zoe's voice. Doug let out a pent up breath, relieved to hear her voice. "If we live through the landing, I'll be sure to formally arrest him," Dana said dryly. The static was getting worse. The radio tech took the microphone back from Mulder's now slack hand. "We've got a fix on your location. We'll have a rescue crew on it's way before you land -- " The speaker erupted into a deafening squeal of static. Doug's eyes flicked over to the radar screen in time to see the plane's comforting green blip vanish. The traffic controller was already on the phone, calling for emergency teams to start scrambling. When he turned back to the two agents it was too late. They were already gone. **************************** Mulder accelerated away from the airport, watching with grim amusement as Shelton tried to wrestle the road map into his lap. This was just another example of the disasters that seemed to occur whenever Mulder and Scully went their separate ways on a case, although this was shaping up to be more ruinous than the others. "Okay, Jacobs' place is sixty miles that way," Shelton said, pointing to the left. "Assuming Zoe managed to hold a straight line flight pattern, they should have gone down about twenty miles out from here, judging from what I saw on the radar." Both men looked off in the right direction. Woods were the only thing visible, with a dirt road winding through at an angle roughly parallel to the way they needed to go. Mulder turned the car onto the road, forced to slow down due to the amount of pot holes. "You do realize we're not trained for pulling people out of downed planes," Shelton said thorugh gritted teeth, trying to ignore the oblique bounces the car was taking. "You want to wait?" Mulder knew he didn't have to bother asking. "Shut up and drive, Mulder." **************************** Evan Jacobs opened his eyes slowly. Every bone in his body throbbed with pain in time with his head, but *they* hadn't succeeded in killing him. Not yet anyway, and he wasn't going to wait around and give them the chance. The plane had gone down hard, knocking its occupants around with merciless force before plowing into a row of trees, buckling the plane's left side, and ripping open the hull next to the cockpit. His seatbelt was one of the casualties of the crash, and he was able to extract himself from the seat in spite of his chained hands. His vision was continuously obscured by a wash of blood coming from a gash by his hairline and he limped due to a shard of metal driven into his left thigh during the landing. Relentless, he pushed his way forward, towards the cockpit, moving in an awkward shuffle. Everyone was after him. He had realized that two weeks ago when he caught one of the baggage handlers spying on him. He'd taken care of the man and everyone else who'd gotten in his way. Except for the two women who had shown up at his home. They wree a different breed of spies. When they had caught him, he thought it was all over -- until they decided to fly his plane out. His fuel gauge had been broken for a while, but he had not seen a good reason to tell them that. He didn't care if he died as long as they died as well. It hurt to move, but he made it into the cockpit, avoiding the gaping hole where a tree had torn out part of the flight deck. The pilot's seat was empty, the harness ripped away, no sign of whoever had occupied it. The co-pilot's seat was still occupied, one of the women slumped in it, battered and scraped by the traumatic landing, breathing a little laboured. Tentatively, he reached forward and searched for the key to the handcuffs. It took him a couple of minutes, but he found it, fumbling until he unlocked them, throwing them saide. Then he saw the gun. ************************** The last thing Zoe remembered was watching the formerly lovely treetops come roaring towards the plane, intent on getting up close and personal as quickly as possible. Then nothing until she'd woken up in the shade of a tree. It took her a couple of false starts to get up and moving, but once mobile, she discovered she was uninjured except for a few scrapes and a very stiff neck. Spotting some gleaming shards of metal, she moved towards them, finding first a few scattered parts of the plane hull, then a swath of ruined trees, strewn like broken match sticks. What was left of the plane was just beyond that, tilted to the left every so slightly, a gaping hole where her seat should have been. she thought with something akin to awe, moving closer. "Dana!" she shouted. "Dana, can you hear me -- " The gunshot interrupted her call, forcing her to drop flat to the ground, one hand clawing for her 9mm. Her stomach felt like it was back on that crashing plane as she watched a figure tumble out of the hole to land heavily on the ground. **************************** Dana came to in time to feel a hand fumbling at her waist and to hear the soft scrape of her gun coming out of its holster. It took a minute for that to register as her mind was too busy cataloguing all the aches and pains that greeted her return to consciousness. But the aches were mostly a minor consideration when the importance of those sounds penetrated. She jerked upright in her seat to find herself staring down the barrel of her own gun, wielded by a rather disgruntled looking Jacobs. They stared at each other for a minute before Jacobs started to smile, lips pulled back to reveal bared teeth. "I told you," he growled, finger dancing nervously around the trigger. "Told you, you weren't going to take me anywhere." "Mr. Jacobs," she said, hoping her voice was calm, "we're only trying to help you." "That's what they all say. I heard you on the radio. You're all after me." She could see the hole in the plane and wondered, briefly, frantically, where Zoe was. Adrenaline was counteracting the effects of any injuries and she eased her hand towards the harness release. "Don't you move!" he snarled. "Just take it easy -- " "Dana! Dana, can you hear me -- " At the sound of Zoe's voice, Jacobs wheeled around and fired a blind shot out the hole. Dana's hand hit the harness release and she shrugged out of it, hitting Jacobs from behind and to the right, knocking him back into the cabin of the plane. He twisted, landing on his back, gun swinging around. She dived for the hole, dropping hard to the ground, lying there for a second seeing stars before her vision cleared and then she could see Jacobs up above her, sticking his gun hand through the same jagged hole. Rolling under the dubious shelter of the plane's wing, she heard the bullet slam into the ground behind her. Someone else opened fire then, forcing Jacobs to duck back into the husk of the plane and Zoe managed to work her way over to the wing, kneeling beside Dana. "You all right?" she asked. "Are you hit?" "No -- don't think so . . . " She ached though, all over. "You?" "Barely a scratch. That Irish luck of yours must have rubbed off on me, Dana." "What luck? I'm still banged up." Jacobs made a return appearance and fired another shot that dinged off the metal of the wing. "We'd better back off," Zoe decided, urging her friend up with her free hand. "He could pick us off from here." Dana nodded. ******************************* The road got bumpier the further along they drove. Mulder cursed as the car hit another lump of gravel thinly disguised as part of the road, his head nearly slamming into the ceiling. In the passenger seat, Shelton, who was a couple of inches taller, didn't bother hiding his feelings as his head did connect with it. "Sorry," Mulder offered, fighting the wheel. "S'okay," the blond agent mumbled, hunching over slightly. "We should be approaching the -- " He broke off as they both saw what lay just past the bend in the road. Trees had been knocked aside, two or three blocking any forward progress, by the passing of the plane. The destruction continued on about two hundred meters in one direction and five hundred in the other. At the end of the larger distance, shrouded by splintered wood, they could see glints of metal. "Well," Mulder said carefully, stopping the car and telling the sinking feeling in his gut to go away. "Guess we found the plane." Shelton nodded silently, craning his neck to look from the sky to the path of the plane. "Guess we walk." ************************** They managed to retreat into the woods, hiding behind the trees in a manner that was fast becoming familiar. "Next time I suggest we try flying anywhere," Zoe said breathlessly, "just shoot me, okay?" "Oh don't worry, I will," Dana assured her, fingering a lump on her head with a soft hiss of pain. "Hmph." Zoe peered around the tree she was hiding behind, looking for Jacobs. "Well, I think we lost him for now." "The further away we move from the plane, the harder it's going to be for a rescue party to find us." "Not to mention that Jacobs could be waiting for them." Zoe sighed. "Feel like tackling him again?" "No. Your turn." "Oh, goody." Zoe holstered her gun and crawled back to her friend. "No sense getting my head blown off. Wish we'd brought our partners along?" "What and wreck our successful approach?" "At least they're larger to hide behind." "No, no, no. Mulder would have found a way to break every bone in his body during the crash and I'd have to carry him back to civilization." "And -- " Zoe drew the word out to at least three syllbles -- "Doug would have smashed his head on a low hanging branch by now and I'd be carrying *him*." Dana hid a laugh and Zoe chuckled for a moment, before they both sobered. Using a tree trunk as a brace, Dana hauled herself to her feet, Zoe steadying her with one hand. "You sure you're okay? We can stay here if you need to." "No. We've got to stop Jacbos." Dana shook her head gingerly. She wasn't really hurt badly, just enough to make her feel dazed, off balance and in desperate need of a safe place to sit down. The look Zoe gave her said in no uncertain terms that her friend wasn't buying it. Before she could say anything the woodland silence was broken by more gunshots. ****** They'd gotten to within nearly twenty feet of the plane before someone opened fire on them. Mulder saw the sudden movement by a gaping hole in the frame and flung himself at Shelton, knocking them to the side, as the first shot streaked throught the air where their heads had been. Landing hard, Mulder rolled off the larger man, drawing his gun and snapping off a quick shot while Shelton followed suit. "Evan Jacobs?" Mulder whispered at his fellow agent as they made for the tree line. "Either that or Dana's *really* mad at you." "What about Bateman?" "She says something before she opens fire." A ghost of a smile. "The earphones at the firing range aren't just to block out the gunshot noise." Another shot. Mulder winced, throwing himself behind a tree. "Sounds more than loud enough to drown her out." "You ain't takin' me nowhere!" came a ragged shout from the plane. Shelton peered around his tree and let out a low whistle. "It's amazing this guy's still on his feet." Mulder rised a quick look. Jacobs was framed in the hole, head bloody, leg nearly impaled with a shard of metal, waving a gun in the air. "That's a bureau issue weapon," Shelton said steadily. Mulder nodded. "Yeah, and if he looks that bad . . . " He didn't have to finish the thought, reading the expression on Shelton's face. What sort of shape were their partners in? ******************************** Dana squinted at the plane from her position behind another tree. She decided that she was heartily sick of trees and woods in general. A desert would be nice for a change. "Who's he shooting at?" she asked. "I can't tell." Zoe ducked back down. "But I didn't hear sirens." "The shots weren't coming from the same place, so it can't just be him firing -- there weren't that many bullets in my gun." "Did you have an extra clip with you?" Zoe winced as Jacobs fired again, aiming roughly across the clearing from where they were hidden. "No." Dana rubbed her forehead. "I -- I don't think so." "Dana! This is important!" "No! I didn't have a spare clip. I'm sure." "Okay then. He should only have two or three more bullets left." Another shot rang out. "One more," Dana said, doing some rather foggy mental math. Maddeningly Jacobs stopped firing and started shouting again. "Go away! Leave me alone!" he yelled. "You're all out to get me!" "Motive," the two whispered at the same time. "Get away or I'll do to you what I did to them." "Confession?" "Not specific enough to hold up in court," Dana reminded. "Yeah, like this guy is ever going to stand trial." Zoe shook her head. "Delusional disorder with psychotic symptoms would be my guess. Hell, I'll testify for the defense if we can get him to put that gun down!" "We could try asking him . . . " "You first." In the distance, but getting louder, were the sounds of sirens. Even with only one bullet, Jacobs could still hurt someone. They were running out of time. ************************************* Mulder cocked his head, listening to the distant electronic wails that were approaching. Shelton noticed he had stopped and gestured impatiently for him to get a move on. They were circling aorund the edge of the clearing, to a point behind the plane's newly invented air conditioning, where Jacobs wasn't looking. The lack of other voices from the plane was worrying them, making them assume that Scully and Bateman were injured at the least and neither of them wanted to give voice to the worst case scenario. Mulder started forward again, passing Shelton with a sudden surge of energy. Just as they reached their goal, there was a thumping sound from the clearing. Mulder stopped again, staring. Jacobs had fallen out of the plane as the shock and injuries had finally caught up with him. He landed in an ungraceful heap, limbs folded under him, groaning. Mulder blinked in disbelief. "That's it?" "You'd rather he shoot more?" Shelton asked, moving forward a little, intent on getting to that plane, Mulder close behind. *************************** "What happened?" Dana asked, hearing the thump, moving to look past Zoe. "He collapsed." "He *what*?" "He fell down, went boom. D'you want a *dictionary*?" "No, that's okay." Zoe was still peering around a tree. "If he's faking, I'm shooting him while I still can." Dana sighed. "Well, I'm not sitting out here for another hour!" Zoe paused, peered out, grinned and ducked back. "Our ride's here." Dana gave her a puzzled look. The sirens, while approaching, weren't there yet. Zoe waved her forward in time to see their rather worried looking partners confiscate Jacobs' gun and hoist each other into the plane. "You know we're never going to hear the end of this," Zoe warned, breaking cover and strolling over to the airplane. Dana trailed behind her more slowly. "*I'm* not the one who crashed the plane . . . " Zoe sniffed in mock indignation. "Fine. Be that way." ****************************** "They're not here." Mulder surveyed the interior of the plane. "I noticed," Shelton said dryly, trying to decide if he should be relieved or alarmed. They'd checked quickly on Jacobs before getting in the plane. He was in no immediate danger unless he removed the shard of metal from his leg, in which case he might bleed to death. As cold as it sounded, they were more concerned with finding their partners right now. "So where are they?" Mulder asked in frustration, heading back to the hole serving as doorway. Shelton beat him to it, paused, then crossed his arms, giving the impression that he was lounging in the hole. "Look, Mulder, it's Thelma and Louise." "You're not Brad Pitt," came a welcome voice, laced with playful disappointment. "After being in a plane crash, I deserve Brad Pitt." Mulder nearly knocked Shelton out of the plane. Bateman, hands on hips, stood just under the plane, craning her neck to watch them in a manner that looked painful. Scully was kneeling by Jacobs, making sure he was all right. She seemed to sense the weight of her partner's gaze and looked up, smiling slightly at him, before turning back to the other man. The sirens had reached a cresendo and they could hear the voices of the arriving emergency personnel. Jumping down, Mulder nodded at Bateman who winked back before dodging out of the way as he headed for Scully. "You okay?" "We're both fine," she said calmly, shooting a warning look to Bateman. "Actually," the other woman drawled, ignoring her friend's pleading look, "I'm fine, Dana got bashed a little and Jacobs caught the brunt of it." Mulder looked from them to the plane. "You were lucky." Emergency workers were pouring into the clearing as the four agents stepped off to one side to let the paramedics get a clear path to Jacobs. A couple of medics made overtures in their direction but the two women waved them off. Mulder opened his mouth to object but shut it under the challenging look Scully threw at him, swallowing a grin. She was just fine. Bateman took a sudden sharp breath, nearly precipitating a heart attack in her alarmed partner. "What?" he demanded in a strangled yelp. "I just had a horrible thought," she said in a whisper. "Yes?" She waved a hand around the clearing. "I'm not going to get stuck with the bill for all this, am I?" Scully started to laugh. "Oh, yeah, that's fine for you. You weren't flying the damn thing . . . " She laughed harder. Bateman made a disgusted sound as her partner wisely decided not to follow Scully's lead. Instead he raised his brows at Mulder, jerking his thumb in the direction of their car. Mulder nodded, hiding an amused look of his own. **************************** "Every bone in my body hurts." Zoe could barely make the words out from around the pillow Dana had buried her face in. "Well, we were offered accommodations at the hospital." "Down the hall from our dear friend Mr. Jacobs? No thanks." Someone knocked on the door. Zoe waited a minute, saw that Dana showed no sign of moving, then levered herself off one of the hotel room's two single beds. "Yeah?" "Room service," came Mulder's voice. She opened the door to the smell of Chinese takeout and two smiling feds. "C'mon in." Dana managed to sit up, tugging her shirt into order as the others settled themselves around the room. "Jacobs will be out of the hospital in a week or so," Doug volunteered, "after which he'll be remanded into the custody of a nearby mental hospital. It's doubtful he'll even stand trial." "No surprise there," Dana muttered, sniffing the air a little, realzing she was hungry. Mulder handed her a pair of chopsticks. "We talked to Skinner." Zoe groaned as Doug's smile grew wider. "You're not financially liable, but he did mention wanting to talk to you when we get back," he said. Dana hid a smile as her friend buried her face in her hands for a moment with a strangled sound. "Actually, Skinner kept trying to blame *me*," Mulder said, picture of innocence. "I wonder why . . . " Doug focussed on the food in front of him, vowing not to look at Zoe or Mulder to keep from laughing. Looking up, his eyes met Dana's, saw the sympathetic amusement there and they both lost it, starting to laugh. "What's so funny?" demanded the others in one breath. "Nothing," Dana gasped, refusing to look at Doug again. "Just promise me one thing, Zoe." "What?" "No more planes. Ever." "Fine." She looked at her friend's partner. "Next time I'll take Mulder." "Uh . . . no thanks . . . really . . . take Shelton. He's your partner." Doug snickered. "I know better." Zoe glared at him. Mulder cleared his throat. "There is one more thing." He looked at Dana. "Uh-oh," she said. "I know that look. I don't like that look." "The car that Jacobs shot up." "Yes?" she asked caustiously. "You rented it." It was Zoe's turn to laugh. "Oh, no," Dana said with sour amusement. "Oh, yes. Skinner said to tell you he wants a full explanation of how it happened plus an insurance claim for the accounting department." Mulder's eyes glinted with silent laughter. "Zoe . . . " "Not my fault, Dana. I flew the plane, you drove the car." "Next time, *you* rent the car. I think I'll take my chances with the plane!" THE END Okay, enough silly stuff. Comments (if there are any) go to larchiba@unixg.ubc.ca Jess M&S, XA, EMXC, naXi 007