From: susannastarz@hotmail.com   
      
   TITLE: Predisposition   
   AUTHOR: Susanna Starz   
   EMAIL: SusannaStarz@hotmail.com   
   RATING: R for some bad words   
   CATEGORY: SRA   
   SPOILERS: The Truth, Closure   
   SUMMARY: An intrepid detective pursues the fugitive Mulder and   
   Scully, discovering more than she bargained for in the process.   
      
   Disclaimer: They're not mine...   
      
   This is a WIP   
   Part 1/?   
      
   *   
   1:15 AM   
      
   	"Goddamn codependents." Detective Christina Miller shut her   
   eyes and pressed the tips of her fingers into her temples in an   
   attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache.   
      
   	"Huh?"   
      
   	"Not you," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, not   
   even glancing up to see who had spoken. She turned her attention   
   back down at the file that lay open on the desk in front of her.   
   Missing persons. Fugitives from justice. Federal agents gone bad.   
   However she wanted to phrase it, the fact still remained that they   
   had been sighted in her town, and something obviously had to be done   
   about it. As soon as the phone calls had begun pouring in from   
   people who spent their evenings at home watching America's Most   
   Wanted, she'd realized that she'd need about a gallon of caffeine to   
   get through the next few days.   
      
   	"Miller, you talking to yourself again?"   
      
   	She glanced up and scowled at the young officer who was   
   grinning back at her. His name was James Greene, and he was a bit   
   friendlier than most, although she still hadn't made up her mind   
   whether or not she liked him. She supposed it was only a matter of   
   time before he too succumbed to office politics and began openly   
   ridiculing her for her unconventional investigative habits.   
      
   	"Jeez," he said, his smile fading. "What did I do to earn   
   the look of death?"   
      
   	Perhaps she could use him to her advantage for the time   
   being. "It's not what you did," she said quickly, allowing a slow   
   smile to spread across her face. "It's what you're *going* to do for   
   me…"   
      
   	He immediately looked suspicious, and she revisited her   
   earlier notion that he hadn't been touched by the office   
   politics. "What?"   
      
   	"I got about a hundred calls this afternoon from people   
   claiming to have spotted those runaway FBI agents in the area. Check   
   some of `em out for me?"   
      
   	Greene rolled his eyes. "That America's Most Wanted segment   
   just aired last night. We get hundreds of calls *every* time one of   
   those things is on TV."   
      
   	"Still, I think there's something here." She tapped one   
   finger on the paperwork she had spread in front of her. "I think   
   they might be in town."   
      
   	"Where'd you get that?" he craned his neck to read over her   
   shoulder.   
      
   	"FBI sent it over when I called with some information,"   
   Miller shrugged. "It's a pretty thorough background report.   
   Apparently they're running around spreading some sort of doomsday   
   prophecy."   
      
   	"Really?" Greene cocked his head. "I thought you believed in   
   all that crap."   
      
   	Office politics. Miller groaned. "Officer Greene, if you   
   have any doubts about--"   
      
   	"Look," Greene held up one hand, silencing her. "People here   
   don't like you. I might have only been on the job here for a few   
   months, but I'm not stupid. At first I thought it was because you're   
   a woman, but it's pretty obvious that that's not the only reason you   
   make people uncomfortable."   
      
   	"Do I make *you* uncomfortable?" she asked, the challenge   
   gleaming in her hazel eyes.   
      
   	"You certainly try to," he gritted his teeth. "Truth is, you   
   don't endear yourself to anyone when you pull your little vanishing   
   tricks and return with a collared suspect. There's procedure,   
   protocol that you completely disregard--"   
      
   	"Is it my fault that my hunches strike me when I'm alone?"   
      
   	"It's a problem when you don't call for backup. Or tell   
   anyone where you're going. Or even mention that you have any fucking   
   *leads* on a case, for god's sake!" 		   
      
   	"Jealous?" her eyes danced.   
   	   
   	"No," he snorted. "I'm not. And thus far I've resisted   
   believing the comments that are bandied about--"   
      
   	"And what comments are those?"   
      
   	"People think you're insane, Detective Miller." Greene stood   
   in front of her, shoulders squared, his cheeks flushed. "The way you   
   do things…it's spooky."   
      
   	"Spooky," she smiled. "That's what they called this guy."   
   She pointed down at the photograph clipped to her case file. "Spooky   
   Mulder…"   
      
   	"So…what…you want to find him because he's a kindred   
   spirit?" Greene snapped.   
      
   	"I want to find him because he's a dangerous felon who may   
   be hiding in my town," Miller responded coolly.   
      
   *   
   4:27 AM   
      
   	"My shift ended three hours ago," Greene sighed, leaning his   
   head against the cool glass of the patrol car window. Miller ignored   
   his whining and reached for her coffee cup, grimacing when she   
   realized it was cold.   
      
   	"Then call a cab and go home," she scowled, returning the   
   half-full coffee cup to the car's cup holder. She dug in her coat   
   pocket for something to munch on and came out with a half-empty bag   
   of sunflower seeds.   
      
   	"Disgusting habit," Greene said grumpily as he watched her   
   drop the seed husks on the car floor.   
      
   	"Could be worse. I could be a smoker," she said.   
      
   	"So your `sources' have led you to this seedy motel on the   
   outskirts of town, despite the fact that none of the witnesses we've   
   spoken to have seen your missing agents anywhere in the vicinity of   
   it."   
      
   	"You wanted to know what went on when I played a hunch,"   
   Miller said, crunching another seed between her teeth. "This is what   
   I do."   
      
   	"This…exactly? You sit outside this motel and wait for some   
   suspicious looking character who just *happens* to be a criminal--"   
      
   	"No. I play a hunch. And I'm almost always right, although   
   my record should speak for itself."   
      
   	"Your damn lucky you're always right, if you ask me," Greene   
   sighed. "Otherwise you'd be out of a job."   
      
   	Miller shrugged disinterestedly and reached for the file   
   folder, propping it open against the steering wheel. She studied the   
   two faces she was supposed to be looking for, tracing her finger   
   along the distinctive profile of the male agent.   
      
   	"He's famous, you know" she said finally, glancing up from   
   the picture.   
      
   	"Who?"   
      
   	"Spooky Mulder."   
      
   	"Never heard of him until that America's Most Wanted thing,"   
   Greene shrugged.   
      
   	"He's not famous in any social circle you'd be a part of."   
      
   	He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?"   
      
   	"He's quite well known in certain UFO groups. Anti-   
   government types view him as something of a hero. He's given   
   speeches on parapsychology--"   
      
   	"Now you're creeping me out."   
      
   	"Agents Mulder and Scully, crusaders for truth, justice and   
   the American way."   
      
   	"They seem more like Bonnie and Clyde to me," Greene   
   shrugged. "Although I'm convinced they had inside help on that   
   prison escape. No way she sauntered in there and busted him out all   
   by herself."   
      
   	"Cooking up a conspiracy theory of your own, are you?"   
      
   	"Why were you grumbling about codependents earlier tonight?"   
   he switched tactics.   
      
   	Miller smiled. "Their history reads like a bad romance   
   novel. They investigated paranormal cases--that much you got from   
   the America's Most Wanted special. But it seems like every time one   
   of them went off on their own, terrible things happened."   
      
   	"Meaning?"   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)