Title

Title: Milwaukee Betrayal

Author: Anne Milne

Date: November 2006

Spoilers: up to S7

Disclaimer: Anyone you recognise doesn't belong to me. They've just come over to play for a while. They'll be back home by the time it gets dark, I promise. Really.

Category: Angst, MSR

Rating: PG13

Feedback: Pleeeeeeeeeease!

Archive: Go for it

Thanks: Sara B., for always giving encouragement.

Summary: What is the ultimate betrayal?

Other stuff: This bugged me until I wrote it!

Milwaukee Betrayal

"I swear, Scully, if I hear one more 'Spooky and the Ice Queen' crack, I'm going to pull out my weapon and start firing indiscriminately."

All I could do was agree with Mulder. It had been five long, difficult days since Skinner sent us to Milwaukee to help the local field office with a serial predator case. Both the local field office and the Milwaukee police department had been catching a lot of heat from the media and the local politicians, as the case had been going on for close to five months, and there seemed to be very little progress. Why wasn't ISU involved? The golden boys in ISU were "too busy hunting serial killers and terrorists", so Skinner had it 'suggested' to him that he should farm us out.

When we arrived in Milwaukee, we had only the barest of information, and the locals were none too happy about us being there. So, while I was stuck at the morgue reviewing nineteen different autopsy reports, Mulder had been stuck in a small windowless office reviewing crime scene information and all the investigating officers' reports. The 'Spooky' taunts started on the second day when Mulder came up with a very preliminary profile, that there were two offenders, not one. By the fourth day, after I'd finished my reviews, I agreed with Mulder, that there were two offenders. The other ME's were very good, and privately agreed with me, but wanted to keep their jobs. It seemed that the Chief of Police had come out publicly and said that there was no way that it was more than one offender. We expected crap from the police, but it was galling that some of the local agents jumped on the 'Spooky-bashing' bandwagon.

The worst thing about this whole situation was that Mulder and I were supposed to be on vacation.

******

Six months earlier, Mulder and I had decided to become a 'proper' couple. He had moved into my apartment, with the aim of us getting something we could grow into together. Skinner's response, when we told him, was unexpected. He told us that it was about time, then laid out two conditions: to not flaunt our relationship at the Hoover, and to not let it interfere with our work. We were glad to agree to those conditions, and we set about building a life together.

Mulder had always felt that I deserved better than him, and so I had put a lot of effort into showing him hat he was what I wanted. In return, I had bared my soul to this man who I loved more than life. But, in the back of my mind, there was a dark little niggle. What if one day, I wasn't enough for Mulder? I had managed to ignore that black thought by throwing myself into showing Mulder how much he was loved. It seemed to be working, too, but in the past month, I had noticed that both of us were getting edgy around each other. After talking it through, we had decided on a two-week vacation. Mulder's only proviso was that it be near the water, and had open space so we could run together. We had agreed on the Myrtle Beach area. It was close to home, and we could be as alone as we wanted.

Then Skinner appeared on our office early last week.

"Agents," he said, "I'm sorry to have to ask you to move your vacation. There's a case in Milwaukee that you are needed on."

Mulder and I just looked at each other sadly. Then he turned to Skinner, said it was okay, and could we please have the details.

Within two hours, we were on the way to Milwaukee. In the plane, we talked a little about the case, and tried to see when we could have our vacation. Skinner had already agreed that we could have two weeks at our earliest convenience, so I said to Mulder that I'd rebook the beachfront cottage for as soon as possible. He nodded, and asked, "What would I ever do without you?"

I smiled as I responded, "You won't ever have to try to find that out," as I leant over to kiss him softly. He grinned at me, put the armrest up, and pulled me over to him. We spent the rest of the flight that way.

******

Just after Mulder had made the comment about firing indiscriminately, things came to a head. One of the local agents, Dave Fields, felt that he should be one of the golden boys at ISU, and had come up with his own profile. He had bided his time, then when he had enough of an audience, he pounced.

"Hey, Mulder?"

"Yeah, Fields?"

"Lemme share my profile with you, okay?"

Mulder motioned that he should proceed, which Fields did. He had barely spoken two sentences when he saw Mulder shaking his head.

"What's the matter, Mulder? No little green men involved, so I'm wrong?" Fields loved playing to an audience, particularly when he was the focus of their attention.

Mulder looked at me, then back at Fields, and said, "No, I'm shaking my head because you're wrong."

"Prove it, Spooky." There were murmurs of agreement, so Mulder asked for the profile. As he read it out, he systematically reduced what Fields had written to a series of mistakes, conjecture, and misinterpretation. Finally, Fields had had enough, and let fly with a stream of invective that was both very inventive and very loud. Loud enough, in fact, to catch the attention of the SAC, Tom Dean.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Fields couldn't wait to play the martyr. "Agent Mulder has just criticised me in front of a group of my peers, and it was unjustified."

Neither Mulder nor I could believe what was happening. Fields had been the one to start the 'Spooky and the Ice Queen' crap, and now he was doing all he could to get us kicked off the case. Fortunately, SAC Dean was not an idiot, and he simply said, "Agent Mulder?"

Mulder explained what had happened, and rather than come to a snap conclusion, SAC Dean asked Mulder to share his profile with all of us, and would he mind explaining how he reached those conclusions. Mulder stood, and walked over to the white board, where he systematically went through each case that had been linked to The Predator, as the media had dubbed him. He asked me to come and help, and between the two of us, we showed why it was two perps, not one, and how each crime could have been committed. I sat, and Mulder outlined a strategy for catching the criminals. Dean looked at Mulder for a long time, then slowly he smiled.

"Agent Mulder, I'm really glad that Walt Skinner sent the two of you out here. There have been some things troubling me about this case, and you've been able to clear up those points for me. Thank you."

Almost immediately, Fields started complaining. "No! Mulder's wrong! It's only one perp!" He kept ranting while Dean was making assignments, and when he heard that he was assigned to calling witnesses for follow-up statements, he lost it completely.

"You're crazy, sir! As crazy as Mulder is! The police will never listen to this nutjob!"

SAC Dean stood up straight. "And you, Agent Fields, are out of line. Just because daddy is number two in the PD doesn't mean that he won't listen to a new approach. This is why these two," indicating Mulder and I, "are here. Now, go do as you've been assigned, or I'll put you on report. Clear?"

Fields grunted, and answered, "Crystal." As Fields walked past Mulder, he sneered, "This isn't over yet, Spooky. Not by a long way."

SAC Dean came over to Mulder, and shook his hand. "Fields is a worm who's more interested in playing politics than solving crime. Don't worry about him. Now, why don't the two of you take off? Grab an early dinner or something, and be back here by seven am." Having issued his directive, the SAC went back into his office.

"You heard the man, Scully. Shall we go?"

"Absolutely, Mulder."

******

That night, for the first time in almost a week, we made love, cherishing each other as much as we could. The following morning, we both woke feeling more at peace than we had for a while. After we'd gotten ready to go back to the field office, I gave Mulder an envelope, and told him to open it. He did, and the look on his face was worth all the effort I'd made.

"Redskins at Green Bay! This is great, Dana. How did you get these?"

"I'd heard some of the other agents talking about the game, and thought I'd surprise you. The game's in two day's time, and I thought we could do with a break from the case."

Mulder picked me up and swung me around before kissing me. "This is really good, Dana. Is it any wonder that I love you like I do?"

We finished getting organised, and I thought a little more about the small box I had in my laptop bag. It contained a gold Celtic knot ring with a small opal and a small amethyst, which were our birthstones. I had it engraved with 'Yours always, Dana'. 'Soon,' I said to myself. As we left the hotel, I had the strangest feeling that we were being watched. I should have paid more attention to that particular feeling.

Back at the field office, it was controlled bedlam. A call had come in at 6.45am that another body had been found, and SAC Dean told us to go out to the scene. He also said that he'd cleared it with the Medical Examiners' office for me to do the autopsy. So, without even sitting down, we were back out the door and off to the scene.

We knew we had arrived by the sea of flashing red and blue lights that greeted us. What we weren't prepared for was the media contingent, and the questions that were being shouted at us.

"When are you guys going to stop this animal?"

"Just what are our tax dollars going on, anyway?"

"Hey beautiful, look this way!"

I knew that there was probably a camera attached to that statement, so I ducked my head and kept walking. At the yellow tape line, a beat patrolman greeted us, and muttered, "Damn vultures."

At my look, he quickly added, "The media guys, ma'am. I'm sure glad that you're here." I nodded my thanks, and turned to where Mulder was walking around a lump on the ground. I pulled out a pair of latex gloves, pulled them on, and went to work.

"First, get shots of the whole area, then focus on the body. When I ask you for a specific angle, just be here, please," I said to the crime scene photographer. The young woman nodded, and went on with her job as unobtrusively as possible. Once she had finished with the general area, I called her back.

I carefully removed the ME's plastic cover from the body, and it took all my strength to not lose my breakfast. The body was that of a young woman, about eighteen to twenty years of age. She had been scalped, so I guessed her hair colour from her eyebrows, and noted it was likely to be brown. I couldn't tell her eye colour, as the sockets stared up emptily at me. Her breasts had been sliced from her body, and one had been shoved into what was left of her abdomen. She had been sliced open from ribs to pubic bone, and essentially gutted. 'The cause of death could be any of a number of things, but I hope she was dead before she was gutted,' I thought. Mulder came up behind me and said exactly that to me. I stood and stretched, then turned to Dr Josh Debnam, one of the ME's.

"I'm done here. Can we get the body taken back to the morgue, please?"

Dr Debnam nodded, and called for his assistants to prep the body for transport. "I'll see you back at the morgue, Dr Scully," he said as he walked to his car.

I looked at Mulder, who simply nodded. "Wait, Dr Debnam. Can I catch a ride with you, please? My partner has some more that he needs to do here."

The good doctor was happy to offer me a ride, and as we drove back to the morgue, both of us were lost in our own thoughts. This was going to be a truly unpleasant autopsy.

******

Five hours late, Dr Debnam and I both stretched and groaned at the release of pressure in our backs. The injuries that this young woman had suffered were horrific, and we had determined that: one, she had been drugged with a cocktail of valium and rohypnol; two, she had definitely been alive when she was scalped and her eyes removed; and three, she died due to massive blood loss resulting from being sliced open. The poor girl had screamed so hard that her larynx had been traumatised, and she would have welcomed death as a release.

More to the point, apart from the drug cocktail, we had found some usable prints. Something had happened to spook the killers, and they hadn't been quite as careful with their cleanup. I took the prints over to my laptop, scanned them in, and started running them through AFIS and the other databases I had access to. Josh had begun the heartbreaking process of stitching our young victim up, and I moved over to help him. About half an hour into the process, my laptop beeped, and both of us moved over to check the results.

To say that we were stunned was a massive understatement.

Two of the prints had come back as belonging to a known sexual deviant named Joey Stevens. The three other prints belonged to someone that we both knew.

David Robert Fields, Special Agent, FBI, Milwaukee Field Office.

"No wonder that worm kept saying there was only one perp," Josh murmured, and I agreed with him.

I pulled my cell out of my laptop bag, and punched in the numbers for the field office. When the call went through, I asked to be connected to the SAC.

"Dean."

"Sir, it's Agent Scully. We need you to come to the morgue right away."

"What's going on, Scully?"

"We found usable prints, and have identified the perps, but we'd really prefer you to see this in person."

"Alright, Scully. I'll be there in five minutes." He paused, then asked if I had seen Mulder in the last hour or so. I hadn't, and I told him so. Dean hung up, and we went back to the task of sewing our victim up.

SAC Dean was as good as his estimate, and within five minutes he was at the morgue.

Within seven minutes, he had called the District Attorney to ask for immediate bench warrants for Stevens and Field.

Within ten minutes, there were APB's out on the two of them.

Dean turned to Josh and I, and congratulated us on finding the evidence that would put these animals away. "I guess this is why Fields was always saying it was only one perp, huh?" he asked. We both agreed, and he exited the autopsy room very quickly.

It took another hour before we were satisfied that our victim could be released to her family, once she was identified, and they could be found. Josh had been quiet, and I asked if he was okay.

He nodded and asked, "This is the ultimate betrayal, isn't it?"

I thought for a moment, and responded, "When someone who has sworn to uphold the law does something like this, it makes it difficult on the rest of the law enforcement community on a number of levels."

Josh agreed, and quietly thanked me for my help. We shook hands, and I walked into the change rooms to put my street clothes on. Now, to find Mulder, and give him the good news.

I almost wished I had stayed in the morgue longer.

******

I got back to our hotel fairly quickly, and I could hear music coming from Mulder's room. I went to the connecting door, and opened it. For the second time that day, I had trouble keeping my stomach contents intact.

There, on the bed, was my partner.

Naked.

With two naked women on him: one gyrating on his groin, and the other gyrating on his face.

I had turned to leave when I noticed two things out of the corner of my eye, blurred by my tears: a video camera was set up in the corner, blinking away merrily; and my partner was handcuffed to the bed. Seeing him restrained galvanised me into action. I pulled my weapon, and shouted, "Federal agent! On the floor now!"

The hookers were so surprised that they complied straight away. One raised her head, and said, "That prick Fields said that no-one was going to be here for hours!"

"Fields set this up?"

The other hooker took up the story, quite willingly. "He said that this was a joke that he wanted to play on this guy; you know, to get him back."

I told the hookers to put some clothes on while I called the field office for the second time that day, and asked for the SAC. Once I got onto him, I told him that Agent Mulder's room was a crime scene, and he needed to get here really soon, and could he send an ambulance as well. The SAC reminded me of Skinner: no nonsense, and he got things done. The paramedics arrived just before SAC Dean did, and he walked in to find me drawing blood from Mulder's limp arm, and asking what hospital he was being taken to. With that out of the way, two of the agents with Dean took the hookers away. The girls were more than happy to tell their story, and I was looking forward to hearing it. First, we had to look at the video.

After dusting it for prints (it was no surprise that Fields' prints were all over it), the SAC, his ASAC, and I sat down to watch. The first thing we saw was Fields, saying straight to camera, "And now for the fall of the famous Spooky Mulder."

We watched as Fields walked over to the bed were he had already restrained Mulder, and kick him a few times. "You'll regret screwing me over, Spooky," he hissed at my partner's inert form. Then we saw the girls come into the room, and the show started. SAC Dean walked over to the VCR, and switched it off, saying, "We've seen enough."

The ASAC, Ted Hoffs, picked up the tape and camera, and placed them in evidence bags. The SAC turned to me and said, "By the way, Agent Scully, on the way here, we got a call. Fields has been picked up, and he's in an interview room."

"Can you give me five minutes with him before you start?" I asked.

"Well, I shouldn't really. What do you think, Ted?"

Hoffs simply nodded and said, "I'd kind of like to see how a pathologist conducts an interview."

I thought that Hoffs was being insulting until I saw his eyes twinkling. Dean agreed with his ASAC, and we made our way back to the field office.

******

Tom Dean filled me in on the way back to the field office. Stevens had been picked up, and had spilled his guts very fast. The comment that he made that stuck in everyone's mind was, "I know I'm a psychopath, but what Davey boy did made me sick!"

It was Fields who had drugged and kidnapped the girls, and Fields who had scalped them. Stevens had kept the eyes and one breast as souvenirs, and couldn't get over how Fields needed it gory to get off. Stevens kept shaking his head as he related details of all the killings, and quite happily cooperated. He wanted a nice padded cell in Ellensville Psychiatric Hospital. So long as he got that, he'd sing like a bird.

So it was about forty-five minutes later that I walked alone into the interview room that held soon to be ex-Special Agent Fields. He smirked when he saw me, and said, "How did your partner like his party?"

"Thank you for clarifying that," was my response. I took my jacket off, and started pacing around the room. "You know, Mr Fields, I really don't like bullies, and that's all that you are. A bully, picking on people who are defenceless."

"So?" he asked.

"So, I'm going to show you how a pathologist deals with bullies. Have you ever seen the tools of MY trade?" I asked. He shook his head, and I said, "Let me show you." I got out a scalpel, a Stryker saw, and a few other instruments, explaining how I use each one in an autopsy, and how I'd needed to use each one on his last victim. Then I pushed the table against the wall, picked up the scalpel, and walked over and stood behind him.

"Do you know how it feels to be scalped, Mr Fields?" I asked as I placed my scalpel at his hairline. I could see great beads of sweat form on his forehead, and I leant in closer. I took hold of his hair, and held it tightly so that if he moved, he would be in a lot of pain. I pushed the scalpel into his skin, and he screamed. I moved the scalpel along his hairline, pulling up on his hair at the same time. The volume of his screaming increased.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Did it make you feel like a big man when you had Stevens hold those drugged, defenceless girls down while you used your Ginsu knife to cut into their heads so you could take their hair? Did you get a great big hard on when they started screaming? Oh, wait; you liked the blood and gore, didn't you?" I continued on in this vein, all the while moving my scalpel along his hairline and pulling up on his hair. Finally, it was all too much for him, and he wet himself and passed out.

Tom Dean opened the door, and grinned at me. "I've never seen a scalpel used in quite that way before."

"No, generally I use the blade to cut things open, and hold the blunt end," I grinned back at him.

"Once the worm wakes up, we'll use slightly more conventional methods to get what we want. If that doesn't work,"

"Tell him that I'll come back and finish what I started," I finished for him.

ASAC Hoffs approached me, and let me know that Mulder was conscious and asking for me. Hoffs also said that Mulder's blood had come back with the same drug cocktail as the other victims, with Viagra thrown in. I thanked him, shook hands with him and about every other agent in the office, and went to see Mulder.

******

Three weeks later, on Myrtle Beach.

After spending two weeks finalising our reports, and then decompressing from the intensity, Mulder and were finally on vacation. We had been in our rented beach hideaway for a week now, and had spent most of our waking hours talking. I had told Mulder what I had seen when I walked into his room that fateful day, and he had filled in the parts that he could remember. I finally felt that we were back to an even keel, and maybe even ready to go forward.

We had just finished cleaning up after dinner, and Mulder took my hand, led me to the couch, and asked me to sit. The small box in my pocket felt like it weighed a ton, and all I was waiting for was an indication of how Mulder felt.

We sat for a while, and he cleared his throat. "Dana," he started, "We've been partners for seven years, and lovers for nearly seven months. In that time, we've experienced so many highs and lows. I have to ask you, is this what you want? Am I really what you want?"

'Where is all this coming from?' I thought, and I said out loud, "Yes, Mulder, you ARE what I want, and our relationship is the most important part of my life. Why?"

He looked away from me, almost ashamed, and said softly, "Because I think that I need a change."

The blood started roaring in my ears, and that dark little niggle that I had been suppressing so well came zooming back into the front of my conscious mind. I pulled my hands out of Mulder's, stood up and moved away from him, all the while trying to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. 'He doesn't want me,' kept running through my brain. I vaguely heard myself say, "If that's what you want," as I moved through the screen door onto the porch and down onto the sand. I started running away from the house as fast as I could. I thought that Mulder had come to the door behind me, but I just kept on running. I ran through the dunes and down to the water's edge. I don't know how long or how far I ran; I ran until I could run no more. Finally, I sank to my knees by the waves, and wished for oblivion. The merciful darkness overtook me, and I knew no more.

When I woke, I found myself back in our bed, with just a t-shirt and briefs on. I looked around for my clothes, and they were folded on a chair by the window. I swung my legs out of the bed, stood up, and moved over to my clothes. I felt for the box in the pocket of my jeans.

The box was no longer there.

Frantic, I started unfolding my clothes and shaking them out. I didn't notice that Mulder had come to the bedroom door, and was standing there with a small smile.

"Lost something?" came out in a vaguely amused way.

"Yes." At his raised eyebrow, I went on, "My dignity. I think that I'd better shower and dress so that we can leave. You probably want to start packing your things so you can find a new place for yourself."

The gently amused smile vanished. "Why on earth would I want to go home? We have another week off, and I plan on using it all."

"Fine. You stay here. I'll go home and pack your things, then when you're ready, you can call and collect them." I was trying hard to keep control, but Mulder was making it difficult. He finally came over to me, and took my right hand with his left. I noticed a glint, and looked at his hand.

He had put the ring on.

"Dana, let's sit, please," he said as he guided me over to the bed. "I didn't know what was wrong with you last night until I replayed what I had said to you. You thought I wanted a change from you, right?" I nodded once, and he continued. "What I should have said is that I think that we need a change. When I finally found you, you had collapsed from exhaustion. I carried you back here, and as I was getting you out of your clothes, the box fell out of your pants pocket. I saw our birthstones, and when I read the engraving, I realised once again how I must have made you feel. Are you able to listen to me now?"

I swallowed hard, and whispered, "Yes."

"Dana, I love you. The only change that I want to make is that I want to marry you." He pulled a small box out of his pocket, opened it and took out a ring.

A gold Celtic knot ring with our birthstones, engraved with 'Yours always, Fox'.

"Are you sure that I'm what you want?" I asked.

A slow smile spread across his face as he answered with certainty, "You are the last woman I will ever love, Dana. Please, say yes."

What else could I say but, "And you are the last man in my life, Fox. Yes."

He pulled me into his arms, and showed me again how much he loved me, and I was able to cherish him. As we relaxed in bed later, I realised that together, we would always be able to win.