From: MS4EVER321 Date: Sun, 29 Mar 1998 23:48:46 EST Subject: First Time Out 1/3 TITLE: First Time Out AUTHOR: Michael Weyer RATING: PG-13 CATEGORY: Crossover/Romance KEYWORDS: X-Files/Highlander/Forever Knight cross-over. Mulder/Scully romance. SUMMARY: The search for a serial killer takes a new turn when the latest victim becomes Immortal. The X-Files, all rights and properties belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and the FOX network. Highlander, all rights and properties belong to Rysher Entertainment Forever Knight, all rights and properties belong to Tristar. Matthew Conners, Alice Fairchild, Megan Maguire, Joanne Stevenson and Thomas Borden are my own creations and belong exclusively to me. This story takes place in the same continuity as my previous stories, "Today is the First Day of the Rest of Eternity" and "Vengeance Never Dies." While it isn't totally necessary to read those stories first, it might help. First Time Out an X-Files/Highlander/Forever Knight crossover by Michael Weyer Once, they were human. Now, they're much more. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Special agents with the FBI, assigned to the X-Files, cases involving unusual activity. He is a believer in things otherworldly. She is a scientist, given to more logical explanations. Together, they have attempted to find the truth, no matter what. If that means fighting shadow elements of their own government, so be it. One case led them to their deaths. But they are still alive. They are Immortal, part of a race of humans forced to duel one another to the death. The only way they can die is if another Immortal takes their heads and their power. Their nature binds them, as does their love for one another. The truth is out there. And the truth is that there can be only one. GUEST-STARRING: SCOTT WOLFF as Matthew Conners AMY JO JOHNSON as Alice Fairchild NIKKI COX as Megan Maguire SPECIAL APPEARANCES BY: SEAN YOUNG as Joanne Stevenson and MICHAEL BEIHN as Thomas Borden It was night when Fox Mulder and Dana Scully walked into the Archon, Ohio police station. The small town was quiet when they came in, a sports bar and a local arcade providing the only late- night entertainment. After a talk with the desk clerk, the two entered the offices of the chief of police, a Chuck Brodie. A heavyset man in his late-forties, Brodie seemed happy to see the two. "Glad you could make it," he said. "Some of the councilmen weren't happy about bringing the FBI into this, but I convinced them it was necessary." "We read over the basics on the flight up here," Mulder said. "But we could hear a little more." Brodie sat down and placed a large file on his desk. "First body showed up a week ago. Karen Spaulding, popular high school girl. Two nights later we found Rachel Carrister, one of her classmates. Last night was Gail Vanderberg." "MO was the same in all of them?" Scully asked. Brodie nodded. "They were all strangled, throats showing marks that look like a garrote. Probably didn't take too long. All were found in remote sections of town, places that aren't visited too often. And each of them had a rose stuck in their mouths." "Your town isn't the first," Mulder said. "Agent Scully and I have come across about eight other deaths in the same manner, all spread out over the state. Those are the ones we know about. We've managed to keep it quiet from the media so it doesn't turn into a circus, but that hasn't stopped this killer." "Someone in the Cleveland office has nicknamed him Thorn," Scully said. "After the roses." "A goddamn serial killer," Brodie sighed. "Damn, I was afraid of this. Any ideas on who he could be?" "He's good," Mulder said. "Too good. Three deaths in one town seems to be a record with him. He's only taken one or two victims in the previous towns he's visited. We can only hope we find him before he kills someone else." "Is there anyone who can help us with information?" Scully asked. "Well, the girls killed did have one similarity," Brodie said. "They all had the same subject and teacher at the local high school. Charles Matthews, American History. He's not a suspect. He's got an alibi for when the coroner says the first murder occurred and he's as grief-stricken as anybody else as to what's happened." "We'll talk to him," Mulder said as he stood up. "We'll get in contact with you later, hopefully with new info." "I hope so," Brodie said. "This town isn't used to killings like this. A couple of brawls, some kids in trouble, there's only been a dozen murders since I became chief. I don't mind admitting I'm a bit out of my league here." "No problem, sir," Scully said. "A case like this needs everyone we can get." "Let's hope it's enough." It was late morning when Mulder and Scully walked down the hallways of John Adams High. Although a little time the previous night and morning had been spent in bed together, they had taken some time to go over their files as well as those of the three victims. Thorn was good, very good. He or she left no fingerprints, no traces of physical evidence, nothing to suggest a description. The garrote wire worked well so it didn't require someone of great strength to use it. "All women, all between the ages of sixteen and eighteen," Scully said. "All involved in athletic activities. All rather attractive and popular. No drugs, mild struggle." "I hate the clean ones," Mulder said. "Clean and weird." "At least he doesn't militate them," Scully said. "It makes autopsies hell." She and Mulder were walking down the hallway when they felt it. The buzzing feeling in their heads, the odd sensation in their stomachs, the chilling along their spines. They both knew that behind the door they were preparing to enter was an Immortal. The feeling had just faded when the bell rang. Immediately, all the doors opened as students piled into the hallway, a huge hum of conversation filling the air in seconds. Pushing their way through the crowd, the two agents entered the empty classroom. The teacher had his back to them as they entered. "Mr. Matthews? Special Agents Mulder and Scully, FBI. We were told to talk to you." The figure before them chuckled. "You know, I always knew you two were going to come walking through that door someday. I just knew it. Never doubted it for an instant." He turned around. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with short dark hair, intelligent eyes and an athletic build. His light brown suit seemed ill-fitting on him. "Matthew?" Scully asked, amazed. It had been five months since she and Mulder had run into Matthew Conners in Toronto, amid a wild case of intrigue and murder. An American soldier since the Revolutionary War, Matthew had the perfect criteria for history. "I always knew that doctorate from Notre Dame would help," Matthew said. "You need the money that bad?" Mulder asked. "No. That's one thing we don't have to worry about too much. Just drop a couple thousand in a bank, let it pile up interest for a hundred years, you've got enough to survive on. I like it." "Why?" "I've spent two hundred years killing people because of differences, Mulder. If I can enlighten one person and show him or her how futile wars are, I feel a lot better. But, this isn't a social visit. It's about the killings, isn't it?" Mulder nodded. "Any ideas?" Matthew shrugged as he began stacking a pile of papers on his desk. "I've tried to keep out of it. Hasn't been easy. Those three were good girls, smart, top students. No troublemakers among them. Whole school's buzzing over this, kids are wondering if they're going to be next." "The boys shouldn't worry," Scully said. "All the victims so far have been female." "When panic takes hold, facts go out the window," Matthew said. He glanced at the clock. "Look, I know someone you should talk with about this. She was friends with all of the girls. She's a good kid and strong to cope with all this. Care to meet her?" "What's her name?" Mulder asked as he and Scully followed Matthew out the classroom and down the hallway. "Alice Fairchild. She's an orphan. Stepparents were killed in an auto accident three years ago and she's been staying in a boarding house ever since. An allowance pays the rent and tuition and she seems to be recovering. I'm just hoping this doesn't push her over the edge." The three walked into the school's gym. On a balance beam was a young woman clad in a red leotard. As they watched, she executed a flawless series of backflips, landing feet first on the mat. Her long brown hair was tied up in a bun so it wouldn't get in her way and her attractive features were in a concentrated look. "She's been doing gymnastics for years," Matthew said. "She's the odds on favorite to lead them to the state championship this year. Alice!" He called out. Grabbing a towel off a bench, Alice came towards the three. "Mr. Matthews, what is it?" she asked. "Alice, these are Agents Mulder and Scully. They're from the FBI. They wanted to ask some questions about the killings." "Oh." An uncomfortable look passed over Alice's face. "Um, look I don't know if this is a good time." "We understand you may be sensitive to the issue right now," Scully said. "But we really do need information." "I already told the police everything I know," Alice said. "There was no warning or anything. I mean, one day they'd be here and everything would be okay, the next they were--" She broke off and took a deep breath. "We were at the Aft-Sec--" "The what?" Mulder asked. "It's a local hangout downtown," Alice answered. "It's pretty much the place to be on the weekends. Anyway, we all were there, laughing, parting, having a great time. Karen said she had to leave, said she had to get home before her curfew. Her folks are always hard on her. She left around ten thirty while the rest of us stayed there." "Did you see anyone follow her out?" Scully asked. Alice shook her head. "It's a mob scene there on Friday. You can't tell who's coming and going. We pretty much went on our own about an hour later. Rachel gave me a ride over to the apartment I'm staying at while I'm here. We heard about Karen the next day." Mulder and Scully could see Alice beginning to tear up. Sniffling, she continued. "We gathered at Rachel's house, to cry about it, to talk. I mean, we were all so close, it just didn't seem right. We missed her. We all missed her. That was the last time we were all--" Alice broke off and buried her face in her hands as her grief came out. Scully took her in her arms and held her as she cried. A glance at Mulder confirmed that the interview was over. The Aft-Sec was one of the busier spots in town, even on a weekday. As Mulder, Scully and Matthew pushed their way through the crowd, the jukebox kicked into a loud rap tune that produced a rush to the dance floor. "I think the decline of modern civilization can be traced directly to the advent of rap," Matthew said as they came to the back of the building. "I'm telling you, since the Beatles broke up, things haven't been the same." "Are you sure you shouldn't be teaching music?" Mulder said. "You've been discussing the merits of rock versus opera since we left your house." "I'm a music buff, sue me," Matthew said. "Owner's supposed to be back here. She bought the place about six months ago, changed the name, brought in talent, everything. Really revitalized the place. I've never met her myself but the kids seem to like her." He knocked on the door. "Come in," a soft voice said. The three entered the small room. It was surprisingly ornate with green carpeting. A map of Ireland covered one wall and posters featuring U2, The Pouges, Van Morrison and the Cranberries were scattered around. Sitting behind a wooden desk was what appeared to be a woman in her early-twenties wearing an expensive suit. She had long shoulder-length red hair, attractive features and what appeared to be a body in very good shape. She looked at the three and her gaze came to Matthew. "I'll be damned," she said, smiling. Her voice carried a slight Irish accent. "I was wondering when you'd finally drop by." "Hello, Megan," Matthew said. "You two know each other?" Mulder asked. Matthew nodded. "We go back." April 15, 1912 The North Atlantic Matthew Conners pulled his coat around himself as he walked to the aft section of the ship. He hadn't felt this cold since Valley Forge. The biting wind blew his coat behind him as he walked down the deck of the silent ship. He couldn't wait to get to New York, back to America. His trip to Europe had been beneficial. He had met a few teachers, gotten some new moves and studied some cultures more. But it still felt good to be back on his home soil. He watched as the passengers from first class walked to the lounge. It was amazing what kind of night life the ship had. Almost midnight and people were still enjoying parties. Matthew smiled. Second class may not have as many privileges, but they were planning a party of their own when the ship docked. He was nearing the aft section of the ship when he felt the presence of another Immortal. For a moment, he considered turning around, but something told him to go forward. He might as well get this out of the way. He came to the aft section and saw two people fighting by the railing to the aft of the ship. One was a man who appeared to be athletic, in his forties with silver hair and a dress tuxedo. The other was a young woman just out of her teens, with brilliant red hair and clothes that identified her as third class. As Matthew approached, he could hear the two argue. "I said, I want my money, you whore!" "Get out of me face, pal. Trust me, you don't want to see me get angry." "Excuse me," Matthew said. The two stopped and looked at him. "I think the lady wants to be left alone." The man pointed at Matthew. "This doesn't concern you. Leave now before I get angry." "It's my business now," Matthew said as he stepped forward. "Let her go." "I can handle myself, lad," the girl said. "I appreciate the effort though." "Let me make myself clear," Matthew said. "You leave her alone and walk away, we stay clear of each other and leave things alone. Or there's going to be trouble." The man shoved the girl down, reached into his coat and pulled out a sword. "My name is Horace Greenwood. Might I have yours before you die?" "Matthew Conners, United States Army, retired." He pulled his sword out and slipped off his coat. "Um, look lads, I'm flattered you're willing to go to these lengths, but I hardly think I'm worth it," the girl said as the two began circling each other. "I'll be with you in a minute," Greenwood said as he got into a fighting stance. Matthew held up his blade. They began to fight, sparks ringing from their blades as they slammed against one another. They were unheeding of the cold or of any other activity on board the ship except each other. They continued to fight, each carefully watching his step on the slippery deck. Megan Maguire blinked her eyes as she watched. She couldn't believe this. She'd kept to herself since the ship got underway. America seemed as good a place as any to get a new start but she wasn't sure now. If these was the kind of people America produced, maybe she should have stayed in Ireland. She wasn't sure what was going on but she knew one thing. It had been a long time since anyone had done anything for her and she wasn't about to let this man be killed over it. She flew at the pair, tackling Greenwood to the deck. The sudden show of strength took Matthew by surprise. "Hey, you can't interfere!" he yelled. She glared at him and he involuntarily took a step back. It had been a long time since Matthew had been shocked but seeing the glowing eyes and extended fangs on the face of the girl did it. Distracted, Megan was suddenly shoved away by Greenwood, knocked into Matthew and sending him off- balance. Getting back to his feet, Greenwood stood up, his sword ready to strike when suddenly the entire ship shook under them. A loud screeching sound was heard and a huge shadow seemed to fall on one side of the ship. Matthew got to his feet and took advantage of the distraction to ram his sword into Greenwood's chest. With a spin, Matthew's blade sliced through Greenwood's neck. The head fell to the side, bounced off the railing and fell to the sea below. Megan watched Matthew leaned against the railing, closing his eyes as he got ready. Her eyes widened as she saw what looked like a white cloud exit Greenwood's body and cover Matthew. Bolts of electricity suddenly surrounded him, striking him in the chest, pushing him against the railing. The lightning ran down the railing, the current flowing from Matthew's body. Finally, the Quickening died and Matthew fell to his knees, heaving with breath. "What the hell was that?" Megan said as she bent to Matthew. "Help me get rid of the body," Matthew said. Without a word, Megan bent down to Greenwood's body. With a slight grunt, she picked it up and threw it over the side of the ship. "That'll work," Matthew said with some surprise. "What the hell are you?" Megan asked. Matthew looked into her glowing eyes. "I could ask you the same question." He stood up, leaning against the railing as he put the sword under his coat. He stuck his hand out. "Matthew Conners. Born in Massachussets, 1750. Died in 1775, during the American Revolution. I'm Immortal." After a pause, Megan placed her hand in his. "Megan Maguire. Born in Dublin, 1780. Brought across New Year's Day, 1800. I'm a vampire." She glanced at the curious onlookers coming out, wondering about the mysterious rumble. "Maybe we'd better talk inside." "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Matthew said. He and Megan were inside his second-class cabin, Matthew changing his bloody shirt. "I've heard stories about you people in every culture I've studied. Too much smoke for there to be no fire." "I've heard stories about you as well," Megan said. "People who never die, who always heal, who play some sort of Game for a Prize beyond imagining. Never believed it until now." "Well, it's true," Matthew said. "Out of curiosity, what was the problem out there?" Megan shrugged. "I filched a couple of bucks off the guy. Not for me, for a couple of friends in steerage. They were good people, needed a fresh start. I thought I'd give them one. Didn't think the bloke would miss it." "Good call," Matthew said. "Maybe you should have just killed him." "I don't kill indiscriminately like most of my kind," Megan said in a hard tone. "I kill those who deserve it. I wasn't sure if Greenwood deserved it or not. If I thought he did, I'd have done it, believe me." "Would have just pissed him off," Matthew said. "Guess it's a good thing I settled this before it got out of hand." A knock on the door interrupted him. Opening it, Matthew saw a steward standing there. "Excuse me, sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put on your life jacket and report to the deck immediately." "Is there a problem?" "Just do as you're asked sir, please." The man turned and moved down the hall. Matthew closed the door, confused. "What the hell--" "Shh," Megan said, holding a finger to her lips. She cocked her head, listening. "The engines have stopped. I can hear people running around. And there's more sounds of water than there should be." She and Matthew shared a long look, then ran out of the room, heading towards the deck. They entered the main dining room and Matthew suddenly stopped as he saw a tall man in an officer's uniform standing by the mantle. "Captain Smith?" he said. The man looked up, his face drawn behind the white beard. "Mr. Conners, isn't it? We met at lunch the other day." "That's right. Captain, what's happening?" Smith took a deep breath and sighed. "We've hit an iceberg. Slashed the hull. The compartments are flooding. The pumps can't handle it." There was a moment of silence as Matthew and Megan absorbed the information. "How long?" Matthew said. "An hour, two if we're lucky. Not enough boats, Mr. Conners, that's the kicker. Not enough boats by half." Matthew bit his lip. "It's not your fault sir. No one could have predicted this." "They should have," Smith sighed. He looked back at the two. "You better get above. Maybe if you're lucky you can get off in time." He turned and began to walk away. "Where are you going?" Megan asked. "To the deck, to see to things. Then to the bridge." He stopped by the doorway and gazed around. "She was supposed to live longer. She was supposed to be a legend." Shaking his head, he started to the upper decks. "Captain!" Smith turned to see Matthew standing there, saluting him with a professional air. Smith calmly returned the salute and walked to the bridge for the last time. "Oh, hell," Megan said, running her hands through her hair. "What are you worried about? We won't drown," Matthew said. "No, but if we're out there until sunrise, I'm dust," Megan said as she began running to an access corridor. "Where are you going?" Matthew said. He began following Megan down the halls of the ship. "We've got to get to the cargo hold," Megan replied. Matthew was in good shape but he found it hard to keep up with the prenaturally fast Megan. "The entire freaking ship is going under and you want to check your luggage?" Matthew said incredulously. "The cargo holds are probably under water by now!" "Then we've got to move fast." Megan led the way through the cris-crossing corridors. Matthew followed, unsure why. He was by no means afraid. A hundred and fifty years of war had driven it out of him. But the last thing he wanted was to spend the next few decades trapped inside a ship on the bottom of the sea. He followed her, the water getting deeper as they went along. Finally, Megan reached the cargo deck she'd been looking for. Ripping the door away, she rushed in and approached a long, sleek box floating atop the water. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Matthew said. "I never trusted English advertising," Megan said as she began pushing the coffin. "This sucker's watertight and it's got a few packets of blood inside, enough to last me a while." "Room enough for two?" Matthew and Megan both turned to see a man standing before him, an aristocratic-like man with dark hair and a dress suit. "My name is Nicholas," he said. "I could use some shelter myself." Matthew glanced at Megan. "He's--" Megan nodded. Sighing, Matthew grabbed the coffin. "Let's go. We can exchange pleasantries later." The three dragged the coffin up through the rapidly flooding hallways, to the deck. The entire bow of the ship was under by this point and the passengers remaining were in a state of total panic, unreassured by the cries of the stewards. The three pulled the coffin into a relatively quiet section of the deck. Megan quickly popped open the lid and got inside, Nicholas behind her. "Make sure the lid's locked and don't open it until sunset," Megan explained. "You got it," Matthew said. "See you soon." He shut the lid and locked it. He began pushing the coffin towards the side of the ship to push it off. He paused as he came across an unusual sight. The ship's band, playing calmly as if they were in the main dining hall, unheeding of the water coming towards them. "Excuse me," Matthew said. "Do you by any chance happen to know 'Nearer My God to Thee?'" "Four hours," Matthew said as he and Megan sat at her desk. "That's how long I spent on top of that thing." "Think of how we felt," Megan answered. "Cramped in that sucker for a whole day." "At least you were warm." "So that's how you met Nick?" Mulder asked. He and Scully stood by the desk. "How is the old boy, anyway?" Megan asked. "He's in Toronto now. A cop, believe it or not." "Lord, he's still looking for mortality, huh?" "Hasn't given up." "Well, wish him luck the next time you see him. And tell him to stop by soon." "I hate to break this up, but we really need to discuss the case," Scully said. "Believe me, if I knew who that bastard was, you wouldn't be here," Megan said. "Those were good girls, all of them. They didn't smoke, didn't drink. They'd come in here, play some tunes, dance a little, and that would be it. Damn shame." "You see anyone suspicious around here the last few nights, someone regular?" Mulder asked. "Whole place is regulars, laddie, how do you think I stay in business? I have a good memory, but I still can't pick a single face out of the crowds I've gotten." "Anything you think you could be important?" Megan shook her head. "No. Keep an eye on that Alice though. She's got a line to be the next victim." "I hope not," Matthew said. "She's a good kid. Almost wish she was family." Megan shook her head. "We all wish that, Matt." "Well, at least your kind gets to know your parents. We don't." Mulder and Scully exchanged confused looks before glancing over at Matthew. "What do you mean?" Mulder said. Matthew looked puzzled. "Didn't Duncan tell you about our families?" "He told us we can't have children," Scully said. "He didn't say anything beyond that." Matthew closed his eyes. "Damn," he whispered. He looked at the two. "Look, this is going to be difficult for you to accept but the people you think are your parents--aren't." They stared at him. "What?" Scully asked. "We're foundlings. All of us. I was abandoned on my parent's doorstep when I was an infant. I don't know who my real mom or dad was. It must have happened to you at some point after your birth. I don't know if you were adopted or what but the fact is that you don't have a real family. None of us do. It's part of being Immortal." A sickening expression had covered the faces of Mulder and Scully as Matthew talked. They'd been forced to accept a lot of things since becoming Immortal, but this was unexpected. They'd had to come to grips with the fact that they would outlive their families. Now, they were told they had no families. "We--we've got to go," Mulder said softly. He took Scully by the arm and led her out. "Nice going," Megan said. "Maybe you should have dropped a ton of bricks on them while you were at it." "Hey, I thought they knew," Matthew said. "Damn. That's one of the hardest things to accept about our nature. It hurts having to know that the people you've accepted as your family aren't." "Technically, no," Megan said. "But those people did raise you, they did care for you and they did love you. That's family in my book." Matthew smiled at her. "You've grown up, Megan, you really have." "Well, don't let it get out. I have a reputation to maintain." Matthew straightened as he felt a presence outside the room. "Either Mulder and Scully decided to come back or we've got company." Megan sighed as she stood up. "Do me a favor. If there's going to be a fight, have it a long ways from here, all right? Town's already spooked." They walked out of the office, into the bustling club. Matthew's eyes focused on a man behind the bar. He was tall, with sandy-blond hair and a drawn, ragged face with a scar down the left cheek. His eyes showed a lifetime of experience and his face broke into a slight smile when he saw Matthew. "How's it going, kid?" "My god, Thomas!" Matthew moved forward and embraced the man. "Jesus, what are you doing here?" "Little cross-country touring. I heard from some contacts you were here, so I thought I'd pay you a visit." "Damn, it's been years. You look as horrible as ever." "Always the flatterer." Matthew nodded to Megan. "This is Megan Maguire, she owns the place. Megan, this is my oldest friend, Thomas Borden." Megan raised an eyebrow. "The old soldier himself? I was beginning to think Matt was just making you up." Borden frowned at her until Matthew spoke. "She knows about us." He decided to keep Megan's nature a secret for now. "Thomas was my first teacher, the first Immortal I met. When I was killed at the Battle of Bunker Hill, he managed to find me, tell me what I was and start my training." "We parted ways after the Revolution," Borden said. "But we've made sure to catch up with one another from time to time." "Last time was in Baghdad, little recon trip before the Gulf War," Matthew explained. "I stepped a land mine and Thomas managed to drag my body out while I healed." "Hey, I owed you from 'Nam, remember." "Tell you what," Megan said. "Let's step into my office and you two can rehash old times over a bottle of Bushmill's, my treat." "I like this woman already, Matt," Borden said. "Watch it, Tom. She can eat you up." The gym was dark save for a pair of dim lights. It was silent except for the grunts of the young woman on the bars. Alice was practicing. She had found a way into the gym through a secret doorway. It had apparently been boarded up for years but a little effort took care of that. She worked out in secret, practicing as hard as she could. She did it whenever she couldn't get to sleep, something that had happened more and more frequently lately. She worked hard, pushing her body to its limits and beyond. She thought about the events of the last few days as she went, using the pain to drive her. She blinked away the tears as she went, remembering the pain she'd felt with each death. She flashed over past times, movies, games, sleepovers, all the good times she'd had with her friends. She went into a series of flips, swinging from one bar to the next. She was barely conscious of where she was or what she was doing. She used the hate, used the pain, used everything to continue her routine. When she was finally done, she crumpled onto the mat, heaving for breath, tears running down her face. She thought she would have felt better when this started but if anything she felt worse. She slowly stood up and changed, slipping on a red sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Packing her gear into her bag, she made her way out. She was lost in thoughts as she walked down the forest path to her apartment. She had endured losses in her life. The loss of her parents, of never having known them. The death of her stepparents and now this. Her three closest friends gone, torn away horribly. She knew she was close to breaking. That was why she had been practicing. She needed to concentrate on something or she'd burst. She heard it before she saw it. A small breath, the silent creak of a tree branch. She looked up in time to see the dark shape fall towards her. It landed in front as she dropped her bag and tried to run. The figure grabbed her, his arm like a vise. He pulled at her, tugging her forward. She struggled, throwing out her foot, hitting the leg. She squeezed out of the grasp and started running down the path. She stumbled across a tree branch, enough to slow her down. She felt those arms grab her and hold her. A shove sent her to the ground. She tried to get up and felt a wire grasping her throat. A tug and it cut into her, slicing through her skin and cutting off her oxygen. Heaving with breath, she twisted her head around and lashed out with a hand. It caught the dark-garbed figures mask. Instinctively, she pulled it off. The face lying under the mask was the last thing Alice Fairchild would see before death claimed her. First Time Out an X-Files/Highlander/Forever Knight crossover by Michael Weyer Megan stepped outside and looked up at the stars. If she could have, she would have taken a deep breath. It always felt odd to hear silence in the early morning. The club had closed an hour earlier and she had attended to her own clean-up. Matthew and Borden had left a few hours earlier. The staff had gone home and she was just finishing some last-minute details before she went to her loft upstairs. In a few hours, she'd seal off the windows and stay inside, maybe catch up on some reading, watch TV. She walked over to the side of the building, checking all the back windows. She smelled it when she was a yard away. It was faint, but there. The smell of a still-fresh kill. She turned the corner and saw it. Alice lay amongst the garbage, a faint red line around her throat and a rose placed in between her teeth. "Oh, no," Megan whispered. She knelt by the body, pulling out the rose. She shook her head in disbelief. She didn't bother checking, she knew a corpse when she saw one. It had happened fairly recently, within the last hour. Her body still retained a lively glow that she knew would vanish soon. Her arms lay askew and a bruise was on her cheek. It looked like she hadn't gone quietly. Megan touched her forehead and sighed. "You missed a hell of a dance, kiddo." Without warning, Alice's body trembled with a sudden shock. Her eyes shot open and she gasped as she took in a huge breath. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Megan cried out, taking a step back. She stared at the suddenly resurrected Alice, who was clutching her throat and head. She caught sight of Megan and cringed, pushing herself back into the garbage bags. "It's all right, it's all right, I won't hurt you," Megan said, reaching a hand out. She could tell Alice was terrified and in partial shock. "I'm Megan Maguire, I own the Aft-Sec." "What--what happened?" Alice choked out. "How'd I get here?" "Damned if I know," Megan said as she helped Alice up. "I just found you here." Alice bent down, her head hurting. "God, I feel like hell." "Look it too. Let me see you." Megan stood Alice up and quickly examined her. Her eyes fell to her cheek and widened when she saw the bruise fading away, leaving pink skin underneath. "Oh, boy," she whispered. She draped a hand over Alice's shoulder. "Come on, girl. There's someone I have to take you to." Still overwhelmed by what was happening, Alice let Megan take her away. Megan quickly locked up and took Alice to her car, a red Mustang. It took ten minutes to drive to where Matthew had said he lived. Alice was silent the whole trip, staring out the windshield as tears streamed down her face. "It'll be all right, okay?" Megan said with more reassurance than she felt. If what she suspected was true, Alice's problems were just beginning. They pulled up to the small house, modest even by the town's standards. Megan helped Alice out as they walked to the door. Midway there, Alice yelped and grabbed her head. "Damn!" she said through gritted teeth. "Now what?" Any doubts Megan had over what Alice now was vanished. They went up the steps and to the door. It opened and Matthew stood there, his sword in his hand. He looked at Megan, then at Alice. He understood instantly. "Come on in," he said, standing aside, his sword quickly placed next to the door. "What happened?" he asked as Megan led Alice to the couch. "Found her outside my club," Megan answered, placing a blanket on Alice's shoulders. "She looked pretty bad. Borden here?" "No, he left a while ago. I'll be right back," Matthew said as he stepped into the kitchen. "What's going on?" Alice asked. "Why did you take me to see Mr. Matthews? Shouldn't we go to the police?" "Lady, if what I suspect is true, you've got bigger problems and he's the only one who can help you." "I've got coffee going," Matthew announced as he walked back. "She was outside the club, marks around her neck," Megan said. "She had this in her mouth." She handed the rose over to Matthew. He stared at it as understanding came over him. He sat in front of Alice, taking her hands in his. "What do you remember?" "I was walking home," Alice sniffed. "Someone jumped at me, attacked me. They put something around my neck, and kept pulling and pulling. And then--then I woke up." She looked at Matthew. "Mr. Matthews, what's happening?" Matthew took a deep breath. "Alice, I'm going to tell you something that is going to sound completely insane but I can assure you it's the truth and your life depends on listening to it and believing it. Okay?" Alice nodded. "My real name is Matthew Conners. I was born in Massachussets in 1750. I died for the first time at the Battle of Bunker Hill, during the American Revolution, in 1775. I'm Immortal and now you are too." Margaret Scully wasn't expecting the phone call in the middle of the night. Rolling over in bed, she snapped on a light on her end table and picked up the phone. "Hello?" she asked. "Mom?" "Dana? Honey, what is it, is something wrong? Did something happen?" The high-risk life Dana led had caused her mother to worry constantly. "No, Mom. I'm okay and so's Fox. I just needed to ask you something." "Dana, it's the middle of the night. Can't this wait?" "Mom, who am I?" Margaret was caught off-guard, both by the question and by the emotion in her daughter's voice. "What do you mean?" "I'm not your natural child, am I?" Margaret closed her eyes. She had always known this was going to come up someday. She rubbed her temples and got her thoughts straight. "It was a hard birth, Dana. They didn't have as much skill or technology back then. I didn't know what was going on, I was upset and in pain. The next thing I knew, someone was putting you in my arms. I looked down at you, at your beautiful face and I knew you had to be mine." "So?" "I didn't know for six years. Then, I received a letter in the mail. It was from a nurse who was working there that night. She told me what had happened, sent in some records she'd stolen. She said the baby I had given was stillborn. A woman in the next room had given birth just before she die. The nurse couldn't see a child left alone. So, she switched some charts in the confusion and gave me you." "Did Dad know?" "No. I could never bring myself to tell him. I'd work up the nerve, but then he'd talk about you and I just couldn't do it. He loved you so much, Dana, just like I did." "Who was my mother?" "I don't honestly know. Someone from the streets, no medical records or anything, no I.D., no grave. I wish I knew, Dana, so I could thank her for you." "Why didn't you tell me?" "Tell you what? That I hadn't given birth to you? Would it have mattered? I love you, Dana, as much as any mother could love her child. Did it really make much of a difference?" There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "I can't deal with this now," Dana finally said. "I'll call later." With that, she hung up. Margaret slowly put the phone down, then pulled the covers off of her. She wasn't going to be getting any sleep soon. In their small motel room, Scully and Mulder lay, side by side, wide awake. "Did you call your mother?" Scully asked. Mulder shook his head. "I didn't have to. I knew. Somehow, I just knew." Scully ran a hand down her face, feeling the moistness left over by her tears. "God, this is so unfair. It was bad enough knowing we were going to outlive our families, now we find out we have no families. Why?" "Makes you wonder about God's great plan," Mulder remarked. "Who are we, Mulder? We don't have parents, we don't have siblings, hell we don't even know who our real parents are. What does that make us?" Mulder stroked her hair. "We make ourselves who we are, Scully. We decide what to do with life, we set goals and we meet them. Being Immortal didn't change any of that. It didn't change us. I love you, Scully and I always have. I love you because you're beautiful, caring, intelligent, strong and resourceful. You made yourself that way and I'm glad you did, because it's why I fell in love with you." "I fell in love with you for two reasons," Scully answered. "One's because you always know the right thing to tell me when I need to hear it." "What's the other reason?" "Because you're damn good in bed." Their chuckling was broken by the ringing of the phone. It had taken ten minutes of arguing and slicing her forearm and letting it heal but Matthew had finally convinced Alice of what had happened to her. He told her about the Game, the Rules, the Prize, holy ground, new identities, everything. It was a lot to take in at once. She was handling herself rather well. "I'm gonna be sick," Alice whispered. "Why me? Why did this have to happen to me?" "I can't answer that," Matthew said. "We don't know why this happened to us or what's it for. I think that's part of the Prize. Knowledge about the universe that people have been wondering about for centuries." "And only one of us can have it?" Alice asked. "It makes no sense." "Well, sadly, neither does life most times," Megan interjected. "I do believe the world was created by God as a joke. I heavily suspect he was drunk at the time." Matthew stiffened and Alice grabbed her head. "God, is it like that every time?" Alice said. "Headaches pass soon," Matthew said as he walked to the door. "The gut feeling and the body-wide goosebumps stay around. Don't worry, it becomes second nature after a while." He opened the door and Mulder and Scully walked in. It was odd seeing them in sweats and jeans instead of suits. Their long coats were on though, obscuring the swords Matthew knew were underneath. "Thanks for coming," Matthew said. "Wouldn't miss it," Mulder remarked. "First time we can talk to a murder victim." "You guys too? Geez, who else?" Alice said. "You'd be surprised," Matthew answered. Scully sat next to Alice and gave her a cursory examination. "Neck wound's already healed. Damn, it might have been helpful." "It was pretty far gone when I found her," Megan said. "I've got the rose, but I doubt it will tell us anything. I already looked and smelled it, no distinguishing traits." "Smelled it?" Scully said, raising an eyebrow. "I've got a few manageable skills." "Did you get a look at who attacked you?" Mulder asked. "No," Alice said, shaking her head. "He was all in black, didn't see a thing. Well, I pulled his mask off but I was halfway gone at the time. I didn't get a good look." "His?" Mulder asked. "It was a man?" "I know that much. He was strong too, in good shape. He didn't have too much trouble with--" she broke off, feeling her neck, her face tensed. "It's all right, we've been there," Scully said, patting her on the shoulder. She looked up at Mulder. "Now what?" Mulder bit his lip. "The killer's in town and he's probably waiting for her body to be found. If she shows up, he'll know something's wrong. Aside from endangering our secret, it could drive him to someone rash, something deadly. I think we should keep her under wraps for a while." "She can stay with me," Megan said. "My apartment's secluded, quiet. It's perfect." "The killer may not be expecting her to be found soon," Matthew said, stroking his chin. "First victims weren't found for a few days. It could give us some time." "But she was put next to the club, in the garbage, in plainer sight," Scully said. "It's like she was put them just to attract attention." "I am here, you know," Alice said. "Don't I get a say in this?" "Sorry," Matthew smiled at her. He looked over at Mulder and Scully. "You guys can work on finding the killer. I'll start training her." "I can help," Megan said. "Picked up a couple of things in England around the Blitz." "The Blitz?" Alice said, confused. "That was fifty years ago. You're not Immortal, I didn't get the headache from you, how can you be alive?" Megan glanced over at Matthew, who shrugged. "Go ahead. Might as well get all her shocks out of the way in one night." Megan lowered her head and appeared to take a breath. When she lifted it, she was in full vampire mode with glowing eyes, feral features and pointed fangs. "Oh, my god," Alice whispered. "That's pretty much what I said," Scully nodded. Alice tore her eyes away from Megan to look at Matthew. "You know, we always knew there was something weird about you, Mr. Matthews. But this exceeds all expectations." "Oh, he excels at that, lass," Megan smiled. The sun was rising as Megan and Alice stepped into her apartment. The doors and windows were sealed shut with plating, all light completely blocked out. "Sorry, but it's necessary," Megan said. "I've got a couch and a pull-out bed. I'll let you take your pick of which it will be." "Don't you have a coffin?" Alice asked, gazing around the apartment with care. Megan laughed. "Don't believe all the legends. The coffins, the no reflections, changing into bats, I don't know where that came from. The rest is pretty much right." Alice sat down and put her head in her hands. "This is totally insane," she said. "I'm going to live forever only I have to chop other people's heads off to do it." "Yes, well, it's better than my alternative," Megan said, pulling a bed out of the wall. Alice stared at her. "You know, from what Matt told me, this is genetics. I couldn't help this. It didn't matter when I died, this was going to happen to me. But you. You had a choice about this, didn't you?" Megan glanced at her. "Aye," she whispered. "I suppose I did at that." Dublin, Ireland New Year's Day, 1800 The sounds of clanking mugs filled the entire town. Dublin was known for its parties and the celebrations to ring in the 19th century were no different. An hour into the New Year and people were as loud as they'd been the previous night. Everyone in town was having a good time, drinking, singing and carrying on. Almost everyone. Megan Maguire had celebrated her twentieth birthday two months earlier and fully expected to die this night. Her red hair was dirtied, mud covered her brown dress, her white shirt was torn and bruises covered her face. "Oh, having problems now?" The question came from one of the two muscular men hanging over her. They had obviously too much to drink and their idea of a celebration came into direct conflict with Megan's. "Shawn, I think the lass doesn't want our attention." "You're right, Jerry. Maybe we ought to show her what she's missing, eh?" Shawn began unbuckling his trousers. "Please," Megan whispered through bloodied lips. "Please, just let me go. Just please let me go." "Oh, we'll let you go, lady. Right after we have a little celebration," Jerry grinned. Shawn pulled out a knife, the blade gleaming in the moonlight. "Now, this won't hurt a bit, lass. If it does, too bad." "Let her go." All three glanced over to see a woman standing in the alleyway. She was tall, with short dark hair tied in a bun, wearing nicer clothes than most of the others in the town. "Let her go and I won't kill you," she said, her English accent clear. "Sod off or you'll be next," Jerry said, pulling out a knife of his own. "If you want to live, let her go," the woman repeated, stepping forward. Shawn stopped and looked at the strange woman. He stood up, pulling up his trousers and rebuckling them. He kept eye contact with the woman throughout. Then he grinned. "Should have kept walking, lassie," he said. Without warning, he plunged the knife into Megan's stomach. She gasped at the stinging pain filling her stomach. As Shawn yanked the blade out, Megan sunk onto the ground, her hands covering the massive wound. Shawn looked at the woman and smiled. "Why settle for a girl when I can have a woman?" Shawn said, brandishing the blood-stained knife. The woman took two steps forward until she stepped into the light. Aside from a beautiful face, the light also showed a pair of glowing eyes and gleaming fangs. "You had your chance," was all she said. In a blur of motion, she slammed past Shawn, breaking the blade in half as she went. She was on Jerry in a flash, gripping his neck tightly. A twist produced a huge crack. Before Jerry's body hit the ground, she had Shawn in a death grip, flinging away the broken blade and sinking her teeth into his throat. Megan barely noticed any of this. She was concentrating on the blood pouring out of her and onto her fingers. She saw a shadow fall across her and looked up to see the woman kneeling before her. "You're dying," she said in a simple tone. "No," Megan whispered, crying. "I don't want to. You've got to do something, anything. Please, I don't want to die, I don't want to die." "Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?" The woman had a hard gaze fixed on Megan. "Would you do anything to live? Anything at all?" "I don't care, I don't want to die." Megan tensed as she felt a wave of pain come over her. "Then you won't." The woman fixed her eyes on Megan's. Her voice seemed to deepen and it echoed throughout Megan's head. "Don't be afraid. Just relax. Trust me." Megan felt a wave of peace come over her. The pain seemed to subside and she stared into those brilliant glowing eyes. The woman slowly leaned forward and placed her mouth onto Megan's neck. Megan tensed and gasped as she felt a sharp, biting pain. Then a wave of darkness washed over her vision and she felt nothing more. Megan slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was lying in a bed, satin sheets covering her, wearing a white robe. The single window in the room showed moonlight outside. Megan sat up slowly, trying to find out what was going on. She felt a hand at the place where the knife had entered. Nothing. No scar, no wound, no anything. "It's gone." Megan glanced up to see the dark-haired woman enter. She still wore the outfit from earlier and was holding a bottle in one hand. "Good as new. Better, in fact." "Am I dead? Is this heaven?" "Yes and no." The woman placed the bottle on an end table and sat down next to Megan. "My name is Joanne Stevenson." "Megan Maguire. If it's not too out of line, what's going on here?" Joanne opened the bottle and handed it to Megan. "Here. Drink this." Megan took the bottle and sipped at the red liquid within it. It felt good, like the sweetest drink she'd ever tasted. "God, what is this? It's damned good." "Human blood." Megan spit out what was in her mouth and looked at Joanne as if she was crazy. Joanne seemed to sigh. "Megan, I was born in England in the Year of Our Lord, 1066. I am a vampire. I brought you across a few hours ago. From this moment on, you will not age and you cannot die. You also can't go out into the sun and you have to drink human blood to survive." "You're mad, you know that?" Megan said. Joanne gave a slight smile and reached to the end table. She picked up a small mirror and turned it so Megan could see her reflection. Megan barely recognized herself. Her eyes were glowing the same pale yellow as Joanne's had and her incisors were razor-sharp. Her features seemed to have become accented, her beauty intensified. "My god," she whispered. She felt at her face, at her fangs and eyelids. She slowly gazed at Joanne, anger flooding into her face. "You bitch!" she screamed and hurled herself at the Englishwoman. They slammed into the nearest wall, Megan attacking with a fury she'd never felt before. She belted Joanne, then smashed her head into the wall and kicked at her. She tried another punch but Joanne blocked it, twisted Megan's arm and threw her back on the bed. "Feeling better?" Joanne said. "You wanted this, remember? You asked for it. For life." "This is life?" Megan said. "Yes," Joanne replied. "It won't be easy and it won't be pretty but it is life all the same. You told me to save you and I did that." "By living as a demon? That's not what I wanted and you know it!" "How do I know it? I've known you for all of two hours, Megan. We've got a lot of powers but mind-reading isn't one of them. I didn't want to see you die. You didn't want to die. I thought this was the best solution." Megan slowly leaned back in bed. "There's no way to reverse it? I'm stuck this way?" Joanne nodded. "So, now what?" Carefully, Joanne walked over and sat before her. "Megan, this is a whole new existence. A new way of life. And as difficult as it may seem, there are a lot of benefits. I can show you. I can teach you and lead you. If you let me." Joanne extended her hand. Megan stared at it for a long minute before taking it. "So, was it worth it?" Megan continued to gaze at the wall as she heard Alice's question. "I'd like to think so. Almost two centuries of history, don't knock what I've seen. I'm not saying it's all been roses, but the good has outweighed the bad." "Is this your way of telling me this is a good thing?" Megan smiled at her. "You last a hundred years, you tell me." "I can't see it," Scully said. "I just can't see it." She and Mulder were sitting at a table in the public library, going over several texts of information. "There seems to be no connection between these women, no common ground that they all shared." "It's there," Mulder said. "Trust me. Every serial killer has some kind of pattern that makes sense, at least to him. However remote the connection is, it'll be there." Mulder and Scully both straightened at the feeling of another Immortal close by. They watched as a man came walking to their table. "Thomas Borden," he said. "Fox Mulder, Dana Scully," Mulder made the introductions. Scully spared a glance at him. She was always irritated when he did that. "We're here on business." "So am I," Borden replied. "Shouldn't take too long. Stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours." "Sounds fair," Mulder said. Nodding, Borden walked out, sparing a glance backwards. Mulder waited until he had left, then pulled out his cell phone. "What are you doing?" Scully asked. Mulder began punching in a number. "I know that look, Mulder. What are you thinking?" "Just a hunch, that's all." Mulder held the phone to his ear as it rang. "Toronto Corner's Office, Natile Lambert speaking." "Nat? It's Fox Mulder, hi." "Mulder? What do you want?" "Hello to you too. I need you to bring up some info on an Immortal named Thomas Borden. Especially his movements in the last year and any unusual habits he's had." "You mean besides cutting off people's heads?" "Besides that, yeah." "Mulder, I've only been a Watcher for a few months. I don't want to make any waves so soon. Why don't you bother Dawson about this?" "Come on, the guy's got his problems with Macleod. You're new, they won't be expecting you to pass information yet." "All right, I'll check out the database when I get home, see what I can find. Might take a while." "Fine." Mulder quickly gave her the number for their motel and hung up. "You don't think he's--?" Scully said. "Just a hunch," Mulder said. "Mulder, whenever you get a hunch, we almost get killed." "Well, it's not a huge problem right now, isn't it?" "No, but you don't have to fill out our expense vouchers for clothing." "I know we should be keeping a low profile, but if we get any further out, we'll be in Indiana," Alice said. She wore a black jumpsuit, shivering in the early morning cold. Matthew stood with her, his coat flapping in the breeze, a bag slung over his shoulder. "It's only been two miles," Matthew said. "I did ten times this a day during the Civil War." "No wonder you guys had such crappy battles, your feet hurt too much," Alice remarked. "Did you ever know Robert E. Lee?" "Met him at the surrender at Appotamax. Ran into him a few years after the war. Brilliant general, good man, he was just on the wrong side." "How many Presidents and Founding Fathers have you known?" "Try me." "Washington?" "Greatest man I ever met. The books can't capture that spirit he had. Five minutes and you'd be willing to follow him through the gates of hell. Mark my words, he's what made this country so great." "Jefferson?" "Smart, more gutsy than you think. Another good man." "Ben Franklin?" "Good inventor, would have made a lousy President. He enjoyed his catnaps too much." "Lincoln." "Humane, strong, honest and one hell of a sense of humor. He had some tougher times than the books would tell you. He deserved a lot better than a bullet in the head." "Grant." "Not a bad general. As for President, I couldn't tell you, I was in Europe at the time." "Roosevelt?" "Charged with Teddy at San Juan Hill. That man was a raving lunatic. Franklin and I had a good friendship, but it ended in 1942." "Why?" "I was against the interment of Japanese-Americans. I couldn't understand why an honorable man like FDR would go along with it. Told him it made us no better than the Nazis. That was the last time we spoke. I went off to fight, promised myself I'd make it up to him after the war." "But he died before the war ended." Matthew nodded sadly. "Time never waits. Not even for us." The two finally came to a large clearing. They felt the buzz as they stepped into it and could see Thomas Borden waiting for them. "Took your time," he said. "I slept in," Matthew replied. "Alice Fairchild, Thomas Borden." "Hi, how old are you?" Alice said. "Don't waste time, do you?" Borden replied, shaking her hand. "Sorry, you're only the second Immortal I've met." "Thomas here's been around since the 1680's," Matthew answered. "You couldn't ask for a better teacher." "Surprised to have you call me for this," Thomas said as he pulled out his sword. "You're old enough to train someone." "Well, I figured as long as you were in town, you could help her with the basics." Matthew placed the bag down and opened it. He pulled out a long, crafted blade. "Hope this works," he said, handing it to Alice. "Had to find one strong enough to fight but light enough for you to use. 16th century Italian, excellent craftsmanship. Took it from an Immortal who got beheaded by a shell in 1944. I think you'll like it." "I'm not sure if I'll ever like it," Alice said as she balanced the blade in her hands. "This is so weird." "Make it part of you," Thomas said. "As of now, this is an extension of your being." "Oh-kay," Alice said. "So, this is just training, right? Doesn't sound too bad." Megan moaned as she opened the door to the upstairs apartment. She limped her way towards the bed, one arm hanging limply at her side, the other dragging the sword along the floor. She collapsed onto the bed with a huge sigh. "Rough day?" asked Megan, who had been sitting at the table watching the whole time. "I will never complain about gym practice again," Alice muttered. "I can't die, so why do I hurt so much?" "Don't ask me, my pain centers are totally off-line. Well, unless you stick a cross in my face or I'm outside in daylight." "Lucky you," Alice said. "What does the Fed duo say?" "Not much. Why are you so interested?" "I'd kind of like to know who killed me. Call it a character quirk." That was the last thing she said before drifting off to sleep. "I'd call it a good day," Borden said as he and Matthew enjoyed a drink. "She's good, real good. Could last a while." "I hope so," Matthew said. "Been a while since I had a student. Not since Josh." "What happened to him wasn't your fault, kid. It's the Game, remember? You taught him well. He ran into someone who was better." "I know, I know. Still, I wish I'd done more." "You did for him what I did for you. Rest of it, you did on your own." "Thanks, Tom. How long are you staying here?" "I'll help you out tomorrow. Then, I've got to hit the road. You know how it is." "Yeah, I do. So, another drink?" "Thought you'd never ask." Scully knocked lightly on the door of the upstairs room. Alice opened the door. Scully could see that Megan was in a corner, far from the light of the doorway. "How are you doing?" Scully asked. "Okay. You find out something?" Alice led Scully in, closing the door. At a table nearby, Megan took a seat and went back to her financial records. "Mulder's waiting on a lead. Aside from that, nothing." She watched Alice fidget in her chair and sighed. "I know this is rough. I've been there. It took me a while just to get used to the idea. I'm still not totally used to it. I keep getting surprises." Alice gazed at the wall where a sealed off window was. "You know your parents?" "I thought I did," Scully said softly. "I didn't. Never gave it a lot of thought before. Maybe they died before or something, it never really mattered somehow. My foster parents were good enough. Better. When they died, it was like part of me died too. A big part." "You felt pain," Scully said. "You felt anger. You felt an overwhelming sadness. You expect them to be around forever and then they're gone." Alice looked at her. "You too?" Scully nodded. "Mulder as well," she said. "It's something you have to work through." There was a long silence that was finally broken by Megan. "The night I was brought across, I died. As far as my family was concerned anyway. Just dropped off the face of the earth. I kept contacts as long as I could. I heard about what went on with them. Either of you know what it's like watching your mother's funeral from a hole in the ground? Your father's from a covered coach? It's not easy, believe me." "Is it that bad?" Alice asked after a pause. "Well, if you can handle the first hundred years, you can pretty much stand up to the rest," Megan replied. "It's hard, but it's doable. Not easy, but what in life is?" Scully smiled slightly. "You're something of a philosopher, aren't you?" "I'm Irish. We refined philosophy." Mulder stepped out of the motel room, eager to meet Scully at the club. He hadn't heard from Natile yet, but he knew she'd turn something up. She was good at observing things before she became a Watcher. Now, she just did it better. Mulder was passing the local diner when he felt the presence. Borden stepped out and the two men took a long look at each other. The tension was broken when Matthew came out. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, glancing at both men. "You know him?" Borden asked. "Thomas Borden, Fox Mulder. He's a friend. Mulder, Thomas Borden, my oldest friend." "We ran into each other," Mulder said. "Nice to know he's on our side." "Same here," Borden replied. "We should get together later tonight, before I leave." "Maybe," Mulder said. "I'll talk to you later, Matt." With that he turned and walked away. "Cold fish, isn't he?" Borden said. "He takes himself a little too seriously but he's a good man," Matthew said. "Come on, I'll show you the school. You can finish telling me about the early colonies." The two walked off, neither noticing the look Mulder gave them. Fox Mulder had lived his life on going with his instincts and right now they were all telling him something was wrong. Something bad. Natile rubbed her forehead as the fax came in. God, she was tired. She really would have liked to crash but she was waiting for the Borden report to come in from headquarters. It was a tiring job, filing weekly reports on Tracy while she balanced her coroner work. No wonder she was starting to lose hair. The printer ended its transmission and Natile picked up the report and began to peruse it. She had gotten to about halfway through when she stopped. "Holy shit." She made a move for the phone. First Time Out An X-Files/Highlander/Forever Knight cross-over by Michael Weyer "For the hundredth time, I don't remember, okay!" Alice stomped around the small apartment. Megan tried to ignore her, concentrating on the forms for her next liquor order. "This is important, all right?" Mulder said. "If we don't find this guy before he leaves town, we'll lose him. We won't get another lead until someone else turns up dead. You want that on your head?" Alice wheeled on him. "Listen, pal, you know what it's like to be murdered?" "As a matter of fact, yes." "How?" "I was shot, if you must know." "I was strangled, Mulder. I had the life choked out of me by some nutball. You think I want anyone to go through that, think again. But I can't help you. I can't tell you what I don't know." "There is a way you can remember," Scully said, staring over at Megan. "A way you're exceptionally good at." Mulder followed Scully's gaze. "The type of hypnotic power you command could help us out." Megan shook her head as their meaning took hold. "Sorry, this ain't my affair. Besides, if there's one thing I've learned, just about all Immortals are resistors." "What if I didn't resist?" Alice asked. "What if I let you hypnotize me?" Megan opened her mouth, then shut it. A look of surprise came on her face. "Never thought of that." She looked over at Alice. "Might work. Might work at that." She stood up and walked over to Alice. She sat Alice down on the bed and took a chair next to her. "You sure about this?" Alice nodded. "If it gets it out, I'm ready. What do I have to do?" "Just take a breath. I'll do the rest." Megan locked her eyes on Alice's and went to work. Mulder and Scully watched, fascinated, as Megan invaded Alice's mind and began t weave her spell. Alice felt as if she was falling right into Megan's eyes. She let it happen, let her mind go numb as Megan's eyes enveloped her. "Alice," Megan said, her voice sounding as if it was echoing in a canyon. "Go back. Back to the night. What do you see?" "He tackles me. I can feel him shove me down. I try to run. I can't get away." Although she talked in a careful monotone, Mulder and Scully could see the pain Alice felt remembering. "He pushes me down. He wraps it around my neck. The rope. I can feel it cutting in--" "It's okay, Alice, it's okay." Megan took Alice's hands in hers and continued to speak in a soft tone. "It won't hurt you. It's all right. What then?" "I reach back--his mask, I grab at it, pull it. His face--I can see his face. His face--" "What about his face, Alice?" Alice's eyes suddenly shot open as she broke off. "Son of a bitch," she hissed as her killer's face. She stood up and moved over to her closet. She yanked out her coat and her sword and walked to the door. "Wait a minute, where do you think you're going?" Mulder asked. "My business," Alice answered. "You're not leaving," Mulder said, standing before the door. "Move," Alice said. "Not until you tell us what's going on." "Get out of my way." There was a blur of motion and suddenly Scully had her sword out, the blade touching Alice's shoulder. "How the bloody hell did you do that?" Megan asked. She distracted Alice long enough for Mulder to pull his sword out. The three stood there, each one ready for someone to make a move. "Oh, Christ, what is this, a medieval John Woo movie?" Megan yelled. The three straightened as they felt another Immortal's presence. The door opened and Matthew walked in. He took one look and immediately pulled his sword out, moving to Mulder. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked. Megan calmly reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a cigar. She lit it and took a long puff. "I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't kill each other here. I just had the office redone." "What's going on?" Matthew asked. "Alice knows who killed her," Scully asked. "I don't know who and she won't tell us." "Well?" Matthew said, looking at Alice. "Look, let me deal with it, okay?" Alice said. "I'm not about to let you kill somebody," Matthew said. "I thought it was okay if it was part of the Game." "You're saying the killer is Immortal?" Scully said. Alice locked eyes with Matthew. "It's Thomas. Thomas Borden." Matthew nearly lost his grip on the sword. "That's not possible. It's not." "Don't tell me what's possible or not," Alice said through gritted teeth. "He killed me, okay? I intend to return the favor." "Alice, you're not ready," Mulder said. "He'd kill you." "No, he wouldn't," Matthew said. "He didn't kill her before and he won't kill her now. That's not his style. I know him, all right? That's not the kind of guy he is." "He changed, all right?" Alice said. "I know what I saw, Matt, and I know what he did." "You can't just run off without checking this," Mulder said. "We need more info." "I've got all the info I need." "You're not going anywhere, okay?" Matthew said. "Not until you get your head straight." The four Immortals tensed as the phone unexpectedly rang. Startled, Megan jumped slightly before answering it. "Hello?" A look of puzzlement came over her face as she looked at the Immortals. "One moment." She cupped her hand over the receiver and looked at Mulder. "Um, it's for you." It took a moment for Mulder to think of a response to that. "Who is it?" "A Natile Lambert." "Put her on speaker." Megan snapped the speaker on and replaced the phone. "Mulder, you there?" Natile's voice filled the room. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Nat," Mulder said, his sword held inches in front of Matthew's throat. "Is it important?" "Oh, yeah. This Borden guy is one sick puppy. Born 1297--" "Wait a minute, that's not right," Matthew said. "He told me it was 1689." "That you, Matt? Hate to burst your bubble, pal, but your teacher isn't the saint you think he is. Died for the first time in 1329. Ran around England for a couple of decades--" "Skip to current times, Nat," Mulder said. "One note. Worked as a British spy during the Revolution. Helped Benedict Arnold negotiate the sale of the plans to the British. Sold out at least two dozen colonial sympathizers to British soldiers." "What?" Matthew said, his face ashen. "It's pretty much par for the course, Matt. This guy has no loyalties to anyone but himself. He sold his own wife to a slaver in 1657. He also prefers finding new Immortals. Seems to get a kick out of their new Quickenings. And if he can't find them--" "He speeds it along," Scully said, her jaw tightening. "You got it. Kills until one of his victims comes back. Then takes their heads. Let's see, last time was a Joshua Reneyolds in Virginia, 1862." "Oh, Jesus," Matthew whispered. "Josh. I never knew." "Is he Thorn?" Mulder asked. "Yeah, he is," Nat said. "I talked to his Watcher. The guy had a hard time keeping quiet, believe me. This 'we cannot interfere' thing is a real pain sometimes." "Thanks, Nat," Mulder said. "Thanks." Megan calmly flicked a switch and turned off the phone. There was a dead silence in the room. Slowly, the four lowered their swords, each stunned by what they just heard. Matthew was his hardest. "Oh, god," he said softly. "Why, Tom. Why?" Alice looked at Matthew. "What now?" Matthew straightened and took a deep breath. "You're not fighting him. I am." "You're sure?" Megan asked. "He killed my student. He acted like my friend. He played me for a fool. I don't forgive that." "So, you're going to kill him?" Alice asked. Matt nodded. "Good." Thomas Borden sighed as he threw his bags into the trunk. He was tired of this town, tired of waiting. Matthew had become too protective of Alice. Borden couldn't make a move without Matt becoming suspicious Too bad. Well, maybe he'd have more luck in the next town. Sooner or later, he knew he was going to hit one. Borden smiled as he thought of his new role. This serial killer thing was a nice way to hide his crimes. Made it look more methodical than it really was. Besides, women made for easier killings. And a little fame couldn't hurt. Who knew, Thorn could become the new Zodiac killer in urban mythology. Thomas felt the increased presence before he heard the car pull up into the motel lot. It stopped and immediately Mulder, Scully, Matthew, Alice and Megan stepped out. The instant he saw them, Borden knew they knew. He reached in and pulled out his sword, facing the quintet. "Hiya, kid," he said. "Go to hell," Matthew answered. "We know you're Thorn," Mulder said. "We know you killed a dozen innocent women just to get a cheap Quickening." "Any evidence?" If Borden was afraid, he hid it well. "We're not settling this in court," Matthew said. "We're settling it here. Now." "You want to do this, kid?" Borden said, stepping towards the clearing behind the motel. "Don't call me kid," Matthew replied, following him. Borden laughed, then lunged forward, his sword ripping towards Matthew. Matthew expertly blocked it and returned with a blow of his own. They moved down the small hill as they fought, exchanging blows. "Tell me something, Tom," Matthew said as he thrust his sword forward. "Why did you let me live?" "Actually, I was planning on taking your head," Borden replied, blocking a parry from Matthew. "But, I ran afoul of a British merchant. We had an argument on how much I could get for some colonial's property. He killed me, so I had to drop out of sight." "So, bumping into me again every few years?" "Well, I was wondering if you'd found any new buddies." "You sick bastard," Matthew said, lunging. Borden sidestepped him and slashed at his back. "Lesson number one, don't overcommit yourself," he said in a mocking tone. Matthew spun and let his sword fly towards Borden's head. Borden ducked and made a stabbing notion Matthew barely avoided. "Lesson number two, don't telegraph your shots." The two smashed their swords together, pushing against each other. Borden suddenly let his fist smash into Matthew's face. "Lesson number three, you've got two hands. Use them." Borden made another slashing motion, only to have it unexpectedly blocked by Matthew. Borden made another move, but Matthew again parried it. "You taught me everything you knew," Matthew said. "But I didn't stop there." They continued to slash at one another until Matthew sliced across Borden's chest. "Lesson number one," he said in a hard tone. "Never play me for a fool." Angered, Borden lunged toward Matthew. He slashed Borden across the arm and back. "Lesson number two, never *ever* play me for a fool." Yelling Borden threw himself at Matthew. The American soldier caught him by the wrist and kept the sword away. He jammed his own blade straight into Borden's chest, causing him to stiffen in pain. "Lesson number three," Matthew hissed as Borden's sword slipped from his grasp. "There can be only one." Borden slid down to his knees, holding his chest. Matthew stood over him and held up his sword. "School's out, teach," he said, with a trace of sadness. "Today's Graduation Day." With that, he threw his arms down, slicing Borden's head from his shoulders. He straightened and took a few steps from the body, preparing himself. He closed his eyes and waited. He felt the icy feeling as the Quickening entered him. Then, his body came alive like a continuous electric shock as the lightning began. It spread around him, throwing up small explosions of dirt as his mind processed the images of Borden's life. He saw friends betrayed, comrades deserted, innocents murdered. He saw a life of greed of villainy. In seconds, he processed the life of the man he thought he knew so well and realized he didn't know him at all. The tears that came from his face as the Quickening died were not only of regret but also of anger as he thought of the friendship that lay wasted at his feet. "Wow." That was all Alice could say as the Quickening ended. Mulder and Scully saw in her face a look of wonderment and something else. A look of fear as Alice Fairchild got a good look at her future. "I want to thank you again," Chief Brodie said as he shook hands with Mulder and Scully. "I'm just sorry we couldn't bring this guy to trial. There was plenty of evidence in his bag to convict him, starting with the dozen roses." "Well, at least it's over," Mulder said. "I'm just sorry we couldn't catch him sooner." "Any idea how he got decapitated?" Brodie said. "Apparently, in his rush to get away, he stumbled onto a rock and fell on an axe that had been left in the field," Scully said. "One of those freak things, I guess." "Right." Brodie knew something was off about this, but he really didn't mind. This Borden punk had gotten what he'd deserved, no doubt about it. As long as justice was done, Brodie was willing to look the other way about any inconsistencies in the duo's story. After another series of handshakes and good-byes, Mulder and Scully got into their rental car and began the drive back to the airport. Scully stared out the window as Mulder drove. "Any plans for the weekend?" he asked. "We could try to get away, get a little leisure time." Scully sighed. "Actually, I wanted to visit my mother. I think we need to talk." Mulder nodded. "Do you want me to go with?" Scully smiled at him. "Yeah. I would." She put his hand over his and squeezed. Matthew slowly sipped at the beer in front of him. The club was closed, Megan upstairs after letting him in. She knew he wanted his solitude. Matthew gazed at his mug and thought about the two hundred years he had thought were spent in friendship. His musing was interrupted when Alice came into the club. "Hey," she said. "I guess I'll be back in class on Monday, huh?" Matthew nodded. "We can do training after school. Weekends too. I've still got a lot to teach you." Alice sat down next to him. "I wanted to say thank you. For helping me." "I want to help you live. That's important to me." "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about Thomas. I know it must have been hard for you to do it. I'm glad you did, because I wouldn't have been able to." Matthew nodded. "I thought he was a good man." "Maybe he was, once," Alice said. "Just not long enough." Matthew nodded. "Matt," Alice said in a hesitant tone. "Am I going to have to fight you?" Matt took a long sip from his mug. "There can be only one." Alice nodded. They sat together as the club became enveloped in silence.