Legerdemain
By: afg - www.ofnoconsequence.com
Category: V
Rating: PG13 for the 'f' bomb.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine and no money is being made.
Thanks: To Tali.
Feedback: Any comments to siggy.63@btinternet.com



I love this bit. Watching them work, watching them trying to 
figure out what happened; they are such dumb fucks.
I am overjoyed to notice that at last I've warranted the best. I 
can see him ducking under the police tape and walking over to 
my latest masterpiece. I'm impressed his face doesn't pale; he 
doesn't rush off to puke like four of the other cops did. I guess 
he's seen plenty of this sort of thing but all the same I'm a little 
disappointed, after all I put in a lot of effort to make this one 
special. He's hunkered down looking at the corpse and 
checking out the ground she's lying on. His long fingers clad 
in latex.  Fox Mulder, the best profiler the FBI's ever had, and 
he's looking for me. I feel quite giddy at the thought. It's funny 
though he's not as big as I thought he'd be. I've seen articles 
written about him and picture in newspapers and shit, I've 
talked about him enough on the net, so I figured he'd be...well, 
bigger. Taller maybe, more bulky, but no, he's all legs, he 
reminds me a bit of the new foals on my daddy's ranch when I 
was a boy, still steaming from their mothers wombs as they 
struggled to their feet.

I watch him from the crowd as he picks over bits of earth, 
around the body but he's not going to find anything, I know, I 
was really careful.  I've been at this a while now, I know what 
I'm doing.  I'm surprised when he stops his rooting about and 
pats the dead woman's arm gently, what the fuck does he do 
that for?  It's not like he knows her or anything, she's just 
some stupid slut that couldn't keep her legs closed, why should 
he care about her?  Me, look for me; I'm the one you should 
care about.

I try to get a better view as he stands up and starts to 
walk around the cordoned off area, he's got his eyes fixed to 
the ground and he's writing things in a little black notebook. I 
guess he does look kind of impressive in his nice suit and long 
trench coat. I wish I could see what he was writing. I jostle the 
person in front of me and he turns around and gives me a look 
that says 'back off.' I almost smile. Christ nothing gets the 
crowds like a good serial murder.

He's slowly walking the perimeter of the taped off area, he 
occasionally looks up and catches the eye of one of the 
onlookers. My heart is beating so fast as finally I get a good 
look at his face. He's okay I suppose, but nothing special. His 
nose is too big for his face, and I'm surprised to see that he 
doesn't look that bright, I mean a hot shot profiler, you'd think 
he'd have a bit of a spark in his eyes, but they're dead, flat 
things. He, kind of, looks like a shark, you know the ones on 
the Discovery channel? Sure they're mean, but really dumb 
looking, he looks a bit like that.  Hell, I have no worries; I'm 
going to make this guy look so fucking stupid.

My breath catches as he comes closer, he's still scribbling 
away in that damn notebook. Oh, yes, he's so close I could 
touch him. He looks up to give the crowd a cursory glance. 
Come on, look at me. Shit, the bastard doesn't notice me at all; 
he's staring at someone over my shoulder. I don't know how 
this guy got his reputation; he sure as hell doesn't impress me. 
He nods his head at someone behind me and before I can turn 
around to look at who has captured his interest I feel someone 
grab my wrist and kick at the backs of my knees, making me 
fall flat on the ground. I'm cuffed before I can make a struggle 
and some bitch is reading me my rights. What the fuck is 
going on?

Two goons in FBI windcheaters haul me to my feet. I watch as 
a short woman walks over to Agent Mulder, it's the woman 
who cuffed me. He talks to her for a second, their heads close 
together like they're sharing a secret, then he slowly walks 
over to me and I notice his eyes aren't dead anymore, they 
blaze with life and intelligence, and something else that makes 
my gut clench. He leans in close to me and whispers, "I know 
you."
 

The end.