Kinesthesia by amy (spookey247)

Kinesthesia

by Amy

Part Ten

MONDAY SEPTEMBER 1 12:45 AM

"If this is a whack-on-the-head-induced hallucination," Mulder panted, "I'm gonna be so pissed." He rolled off her and onto the bed, arms still wrapped loosely around her body.

"Oh my god," Scully gasped. "Oh my god. Oh my god!" She wondered if these were the only words she had left. Maybe the rest were vacationing somewhere further south.

"You, ah, you - " Mulder was pie-eyed. "I mean you did, right?"

She nodded. Yes. More than once, if memory served.

Then she started giggling.

"That's funny?" Mulder asked.

"Oh my god," she answered, and yes, yes indeed, those were the only words she had left.

This was certainly the last thing they should have done, she thought. It was unprofessional and irresponsible and a very bad idea and she was surprised to realize she didn't give a damn. She stroked Mulder's stubbled cheek, realized her own face was burning, chafed. Beard burn, she thought, dissolved by a fresh wave of laughter.

"Scully?"

Mulder searched her face, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "So this is the effect I have on you?"

"I'm...I'm just..." New vocabulary, she thought. How encouraging. "I'm just...Oh my god."

"It's a good laugh, then?" Mulder's tone was joking, but his arms had stiffened a little and there was an edge to his voice. "You're laughing with me and not at me?"

"Yeah." She nodded vigorously. "Good laugh."

He smiled.

Enough words for now, she thought. Snaking her fingers into his hair, she snared his lower lip between her teeth, began teasing it with the tip of her tongue. When she reached for his cock, it was sticky and already half-hard.

She stroked. He moaned.

"Damn," Mulder whispered, kissing her lips, her brow, her cheekbone. "God, Scully, I - Jesus!" Face distorting, his body jerked to one side.

"Mulder?" Was he having some kind of seizure? Oh Christ, what the hell had she been thinking, seducing a man with a head injury? "Are you - "

Then she saw Mike standing by the bed and realized the dog had just stuck his cold, wet nose right between Mulder's -

"Mike! Down, boy!" She pushed Mike away, trying to sound stern and failing. "Are you okay, Mulder? I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He kissed one cheek, then the other. "I don't want you sorry about anything right now." Nuzzling her ear, he started working his way lower.

This is heaven, she thought.

Then something thudded outside. The bed trembled.

"What - " Mulder paused, sat up, blinking. "Did you hear-?"

Another explosion rocked the trailer.

"What the - "

Their eyes locked for a split second. Then they rolled off the bed and rushed to find their clothes.

A thick, black plume rose toward the stars.

"That's the back lot," Scully said, pointing towards it. They were standing in the lane behind the Country Coach. She pulled on her jacket.

"That's where they had the rides parked." Mulder was crouched down, tying his boot. "Call Capocelli. Tell him we'll - "

He was interrupted by a series of rapid-fire explosions.

"Shit."

Scully watched the plume of smoke get much fatter and much blacker. "I'll get the first aid kit."

"Good idea." Mulder started away, but she grabbed his hand.

"Your head. Are you-?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Call 911 too, just in case no one else has."

Mulder ran across the half-empty trailer park, eased himself through a gap in the midway fence. As he drew closer, he could see flames clawing the sky, but disassembled rides blocked his view of the fire's source. He could hear calls for help, the wail of sirens in the distance, the neighing and stamping of horses trapped in a trailer not far from the fire. He tore around a corner, passed a parked truck with its hood up -

"Shit."

The fire was in the maintenance truck.

He'd been standing there with Gwen and Frye only this morning. Now a noxious, black cloud was pouring from its open back. There were, Mulder knew, probably enough petro-chemicals inside to send them all to the moon.

A grimy security guard emerged from the smoke, shielding his mouth and nose with his shirt and dragging an unmoving body behind him. Mulder ran toward them.

"Anyone else inside?" he shouted over the roar of the flames and the din of sirens and voices.

The guard, bent double and coughing, shook his head 'no.'

Mulder looked down at the soot-covered body. "Oh shit." He dropped to his knees.

Gwen's face was bloody and her t-shirt was singed. He reached for her right arm, planning to check for a pulse, but her flesh was badly burned. Heart racing, he gingerly pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. Her pulse was weak, but steady.

"Ay, what happened?" Solera stood over them. "Jesus, Gwen."

"We need a blanket or a sheet or something, Solly." Mulder pulled his jackknife out of his pocket, began gently cutting away Gwen's shirt. "See if you can find something."

Solera turned to one of the other carnies, rattled off something in Spanish, then turned back to Mulder. "Duke, you seen Frye, man?"

Mulder shook his head. A chunk of shrapnel glistened in Gwen's sternum. A dozen tiny wounds were bleeding all around it.

There was another explosion inside the truck, a series of pops like spray cans going up one by one.

Then he heard a voice behind him. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOB!"

Mulder froze at the sound, looked over his shoulder. Sobbing hysterically, the operations manager was running toward the burning truck.

"Somebody stop her!" He started to his feet.

"Mandy, NO!" Scully was running after Mandy, gaining with every step.

"ROOOOOOOOOOOOB!" Mandy wailed.

"Scu - Brenda, wait!"

Scully launched herself at the other woman. Both fell to the ground. There was another deafening roar; Mulder arched over Gwen, trying to protect her. A shower of ash and debris rained down on them.

"Rooooooooooooooooooooob!" Mandy kicked and bucked in Scully's grip. "Let me go, let me go!"

Fire trucks and emergency vehicles had begun arriving. The other carnies were already being pushed back, herded toward the fairground fence. The panel truck was barely visible in the midst of searing flames.

A uniformed EMT suddenly filled Mulder's field of vision. "Sir, you'll have to move so we can help the patient."

Mulder pushed himself to standing, headed toward Scully and Mandy.

Mandy had gone limp, apparently oblivious to her surroundings. "He's dead," she moaned, "Oh god, oh god..."

Two more fire trucks arrived on the scene. Mulder lifted the sobbing woman to her feet and practically dragged her across the field. "Brenda, come on!"

Mandy sagged against him, clutching his t-shirt. "I can't believe he's gone," she wailed. "Rob, baby, oh my god..."

Mulder looped his arms awkwardly around her and shot Scully a look. They passed under a security light. He stiffened. "Um, Brenda, are you okay? Your nose is bleeding."

"What?" Scully drew her finger beneath her nose. "Oh," she said, looking at her bloody fingers. She pulled a wadded Kleenex from her pocket and daubed at the blood. "I'm fine, it's just a bump. Who was that you were - ?"

A group of ride jocks had been pushed back by the police and were milling around by the fence. "Holy fuck," a guy from Billy's crew said. "Did anybody see what happened?"

There were shrugs and murmurs. "We was shutting down the office," one said. "I was up on the front end," someone else chimed in. "I ran down here when I smelled the smoke."

Solera frowned, shook his head. "Anybody seen Frye? I no can find him."

"I ain't seen him either," someone said. "And where's Rob?"

"Rob lock maintenance one o'clock," Solera muttered. He looked extremely worried.

"Shit, it's quarter after one, man."

A pair of firemen passed. Mandy broke away from Mulder and grabbed one of them by the sleeve. "My husband! He was in that truck! Please, help me, please!"

"We don't know that for sure." Scully took Mandy firmly by the arm and pulled her back. "Just let them do their job."

Two more police cars arrived. An officer approached the group.

Mulder turned and put his hand on Solera's shoulder. "We better tell the cops what we know, Solly."

Solera cradled his forehead in his palm and shook his head. "Ay, mi dios, homes. It's gonna be a fuckin' long night."

WYOMING MEDICAL CENTER 2:22 AM

"Your x-ray's clear; no sign of concussion." The intern, who did not look old enough to be in med school, let alone actually practicing medicine, scribbled a note on a prescription slip. "You're lucky."

Scully thought about Gwen, tried to wrap her brain around the idea that Frye and Peake were dead.

Yeah, she thought. Lucky.

"Take some Ibuprofen for any soreness and come back in if you start to feel dizzy or nauseated."

"Thanks."

Flashing a blinding grin, the doctor slid the cubicle curtain aside and stepped out. A moment later, the admitting nurse stuck her head in. "Miss? There's a detective here who'd like to talk to you."

Scully leaned wearily against the exam table. She hadn't had much time to think about it, so she hadn't come up with a story for the local police. She had a feeling that 'At the time of the explosion, I was screwing my partner, so I really don't know what happened,' wasn't going to cut it, though.

What the hell had she been thinking?

"Miss?" The nurse was waiting.

"Tell him to come in."

A slender, dark-haired man pushed his way past the curtain, glanced from side to side. "Agent Scully?" he asked very quietly.

Scully recognized the voice. "Oh. Agent Capocelli," she said, surprised to suddenly come face-to-face with their contact. She'd called him as Mulder had suggested, but she hadn't expected him to actually come to the hospital.

Capocelli looked out through the curtain for a moment. Seeming satisfied no one was listening, he asked, "Agent Mulder's here too?"

"Yes," Scully replied.

"Is he injured?"

"Not from the explosion, no. Neither of us was near the truck when it went up." Which was the truth, if not the whole truth, she thought. "He suffered a head injury earlier in the day, and they're probably running him through X-Ray, just in case."

"Good," Capocelli nodded. "Casper PD has given us all the details they have about what happened out there at the fairgrounds." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "Last I heard, it was still too hot to get anyone inside the truck, but the fire is under control. Definitely deliberate, though, and from the preliminary spray pattern of nails and debris, clearly a pipe bomb similar to those we've been investigating."

Scully nodded.

"Two of our best suspects, Robert Peake and Timothy Frye, are missing and presumed dead. According to witnesses, they were last seen in and around the truck about 10 minutes before the explosion, though accounts differ slightly on the timing. Gwen Frye was severely injured and is listed in critical condition. She's also our prime suspect, now."

"What? Gwen? You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Based on the information Mulder gathered about her apparent 'obsession' with Robert Peake, we believe he was her intended victim."

"That doesn't fit with the earlier bombings. They all occurred after the show had left town."

"Diversionary tactic," Capocelli explained. "We think the girl was trying to set Peake up. According to Mulder's notes, there was some bad blood between the two of them."

"But - "

"We have two witnesses who say she asked Peake to give her a hand with a repair in the truck about 20 minutes before the explosion. We have another witness who actually saw the three - Gwen, Peake, and Frye - go into the truck. Something must have gone wrong."

"You think she was trying to kill her father, too?"

Capocelli shook his head. "No, and we don't think her father was involved, either, but he knew how to build a pipe bomb, and we assume he probably taught her how. We think she was trying to make it look accidental, like Peake had blown himself sky-high on one of his own bombs."

Scully frowned. "Gwen didn't strike me as a criminal mastermind, Agent Capocelli. And I don't understand why she'd deliberately lure her father into such a dangerous situation."

"Well, you've both said Gwen and her father were having problems - "

"Yes, they had problems, but I didn't see anything that would suggest Gwen wanted Tim dead."

Capocelli shrugged. "Obviously things didn't go as planned. Unless she was suicidal. At any rate, we've got this." He reached into his pocket and produced a zip-lock evidence bag. "When they were moving the girl, it fell out of her pocket."

"Oh." Scully took the bag. Inside was a white envelope and a yellow sheet of legal paper with the circular symbol drawn on it.

"We have other evidence, as well. It's all circumstantial, but - "

Scully stared at the bag, then handed it back. "But - the rubbing I made. As far as I know, Gwen Frye has no access to the office. It's locked at all times. Only supervisory staff and management have keys."

"She's a mechanic, right? You think she couldn't pick a lock?"

"I suppose. But - "

Capocelli waved her off. "You know what they say about the simplest explanation, Agent Scully. There's still a lot of evidence to collect, but we're - " His belt chirped. "Let me get this."

Clapping the cell phone to his ear, he swung the curtain aside. Scully stepped out of the cubicle right behind him, watched as he strode across to the nurses' station, where a man in a drab gray suit immediately tried to get his attention. Brow furrowed, Capocelli turned back, gave her a quick but significant glance. Something had obviously just come up.

Someone touched her arm.

"You okay, Brenda?"

Mulder had appeared beside her. His head was neatly bandaged and his expression was grim.

"Fine. They said I'm fine."

"Good." Mulder leaned in close and dropped his voice. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

The curtains of a nearby cubicle stirred. Scully walked past Mulder, headed for a deserted bank of pay phones on the far side of the ER. "You got any change, Duke? I don't have my bag."

Mulder followed her, digging in his pocket.

"Don't worry, I think everyone's out there." He inclined his head toward the reception area, handing her some coins. He leaned against the wall and lowered his voice. "They think Gwen did it."

Scully picked up the phone book, pretended to flip through it. "You don't?"

Mulder shook his head. "She's messed up, but not that messed up. And there's no way she drew the wheel on that note. She's left handed."

Scully popped some coins into the phone, dialed a bogus phone number. "Maybe she's ambidextrous."

Mulder shook his head. "She has this big puckered scar on her right hand," he said, pointing to the fleshy knob just below the thumb. "She's really self-conscious about it. When she isn't wearing work gloves, she keeps that hand in her pocket."

"Where did you say the scar was?"

Mulder pointed again. "Why?"

"That's where Shelby Peake's extra thumb was."

Mulder blinked. "Yeah? You think they're related?"

"Not a lot about the Peake family tree would surprise me at this point. But, if Gwen wasn't involved, why did she have that note in her pocket?"

"Dunno." Mulder's brow creased. "Maybe she found it in the truck. Maybe she saw it on the ground somewhere. Or maybe someone gave it to her - "

"- trying to implicate her. Of course."

"Exactly," Mulder said. "So, someone with access to the office. Someone who knew how Gwen felt about Rob, and who knew about their matching tattoos. Someone who knew about Frye's past, too, and knew how to make the same type of pipe bomb he'd used. Someone with something to gain, too, or some axe to grind."

Scully hung up the phone. "That leaves who? Shelby Peake?"

"Maybe his doddering idiot act is just that - an act."

"Maybe," Scully replied. "But why? What's his motive?"

"I don't know yet." Mulder shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. "But he would have known Rob closed up the maintenance truck at about the same time every night, no matter where the show was. He could easily have planted that bomb days, hell, maybe weeks in advance. Then he just had to slip Gwen that note before he took off with the girlfriend he'd had a fairly public fight with just hours before. I wouldn't be surprised to find there's a whole lot of money missing from the office safe. If I could talk to Gwen - "

"Capocelli said she's critical."

"Shit." Mulder winced. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, and Scully noticed how truly exhausted he looked. A fresh wave of guilt swept through her.

"Look, I'll go back to the fairground and see if I can get into the office," she said. "I haven't finished going through Peake's files yet, so I'll do that. There may be something there that'll help establish either guilt or motive, maybe both."

"Good idea. I'll hang around here for awhile and see if Gwen makes a statement." With a furtive glance toward the nurses' station, Mulder headed toward a set of double doors and slipped off down a hallway.

End 10/12