Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, the X-Files, and associated characters are property of David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting Corporation. They are used without permission and no copyright infringement is meant. The song is written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon. The Beatles performed it and I borrowed it for the story. Note: Judging by the sick nature of serial killers, I wouldn't be surprised if something like this actually does happen. Any elements not recognized as being taken from the show copyright Christina Shuy. Rating: PG (violence), MSR, Spoilers: none, really Summary: Mulder and Scully meet Richardson and Jones on a case for VCS. Comments and other things sent to cshuy@netcom.com are much appreciated. The Beatles Files: "Eleanor Rigby" by Christina Shuy cshuy@netcom.com Dana Scully arrived in the basement office to find her partner, Fox Mulder, waiting for her. He handed her a mug of coffee. She took a sip. Mulder looked relieved that she had arrived and they traded smiles. "Just the way I like it. What's the occasion, Mulder?" she said. "Skinner wants to see us. He says it's about a case from VCS..." he said, tightly. "One that involves putting together a profile." Scully blanched. She knew Mulder hated doing things like that. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, thank you for coming so promptly." Assistant Director Walter Skinner said. He handed them a casefile and they looked through the contents together. "Well, Scully, looks like we have a serial killer on our hands." Mulder said, surveying the scene of the crime. "Yeah. Unfortunately, it seems it is one who likes the Beatles 'Eleanor Rigby'." Scully nodded, walking over to him. She had just finished surveying the victim. "Death by strangulation occurred no more than six hours ago." The casefile they had reviewed in Skinner's office had included graphic photos of the three crimescenes previous to the one they were currently at. Each of them had included the same thing. A death by strangulation and the same song lyric scribbled on the walls with permanent marker. "Ah, look at all the lonely people Ah, look at all the lonely people Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been Lives in a dream Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door Who is it for? All the lonely people Where do they all come from ? All the lonely people Where do they all belong ? Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear No one comes near. Look at him working. Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there What does he care? All the lonely people Where do they all come from? All the lonely people Where do they all belong? Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name Nobody came Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave No one was saved All the lonely people Where do they all come from? All the lonely people Where do they all belong?" As they studied the song lyrics, Scully felt Mulder clasp her hand. The lyrics themselves had been written in precise, neat print. "I like the Beatles... but this is beyond even me..." Mulder mumbled, trying to get a hold of what the killer had been thinking. "Agents Mulder and Scully?" asked a female voice from behind them. "Yes?" They answered in unison, turning to look. "I'm Agent Molly Richardson." A tall, dark-skinned female, her hair in braids, walked up to them. She was almost Mulder's height, and posessed an air of confidence and friendliness. "I hear you requested me?" Mulder asked, though to Scully he sounded a little anxious, perhaps even a little nervous. Agent Richardson smiled. "That I did, Agent Mulder. I know of your reputation, and I'm actually glad of it. This way I know I'm getting the best of the best, and that's not lipservice either. I have little tolerance for brownnosing. Just get the work done, and done right the first time, and I don't have a problem." "If you requested him, what am I doing here?" Scully asked. "I needed a pathologist as well, and since you were Agent Mulder's partner, I thought that both of you would do nicely." "Is there anything about the victims that hasn't made it into the report thus far?" Scully inquired, just as a male agent, who had hair far redder than Scully's, approached. "Molly, I have called everyone who knew the victim." he answered, voice soft, with a hint of Britain and Boston. "Same as the others, Desmond?" "'Fraid so..." "Damn!" Richardson swore under her breath. Mulder and Scully looked at her, inquiringly, and she answered. "No next of kin. The victims thus far have all been lonely people." "That might explain the song lyric... well, the chorus anyway." Desmond said. "Wait... there's another connection..." Four Days Later... "Thank you, Agent Mulder, Agent Scully. The profile you put together helped us catch the killer before he could kill again." Molly Richardson said, smiling at them. "Who did it turn out to be?" "Oddly enough, there was a local priest... who was *ahem* named Father Mackenzie..." Desmond continued telling the story. -The end- "The Truth is Out There. Trust No One."- from "The X-Files" Pursuing a BS degree(Electrical Engineering)-EE 332(Systems Analysis)-Su97 "In the moment that you think you can't, you'll discover that you can." - Celine Dion - "Power of the Dream" "Let's get Dangerous!" - Darkwing Duck. Looking for work and a place to live... somewhere in the SanFran Bay Area.