The X-Philes - Sing Me An Old Fashioned Song 1

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Connor O'Dell's House, Chappaquidick Island, Massachusetts

Connor O'Dell is sorting out his loft, a job he'd been putting off for a long time. Under the window he spots his violin case. He hadn't played it for years - not since he'd left university anyway. He picks it up, tucks it under his chin and plays an old Irish folk tune. Ahh Granda would be proud he thinks. With the violin under his arm he looks through a box of photographs. He picks up one of a group of students and smiles. He walks back to the window humming Midnight On The Water, an old Norma Waterstone and Mick Carthy song he hadn't thought of in years. It must have been the photo - that had been one of his big numbers all those years ago. A soft wind blows through the loft. Connor shivers. It's like someone was walking over his grave. He sees a small bag in the violin case. He picks it up and opens it. In it are herbs and bones. The wind gets stronger and he hears a noise in the rafters. He looks up into a pair of red eyes and he screams as the creature jumps on him.


FBI Headquarters, Washington DC

Agent Dana Scully is scowling at her computer and banging the hard drive.

'Come on, boot up for god's sake, I need those files now.' she growls. A woman pokes her head round the door.

'I... erm... I... er... I can c-c-come back l-l-later if you want.' she stammers.

'Agent Frost? From IT? You're just the person I want. This stupid thing won't boot up.' says Scully. Agent Frost smiles.

'Ah I know what it is. It's a hangover from that virus we were tracking last week.' she replies as she sits at Scully's computer.

'I heard you were hero of the hour. You tracked the geek that started it and wrote the anti virus patch. If it hadn't been for you it would have disabled two thirds of the worlds computers.' says Scully. Frost blushes.

'I was only doing my job, it was nothing really.' she says quickly. Scully smiles.

'You should bask in the glory!' she says. Frost goes pale and starts to wring her hands.

'Oh God no I... I... c-c-can't do that. I... I... I'd die. I h-h-hate being noticed.' Frost stammers and breaks into a sweat. Scully lays a hand on her shoulder.

'Easy, easy. Take a deep breath.' Frost starts to calm down. 'How long have you been having panic attacks?' Scully asks.

'About 5 years. It started with the chronic shyness I suffered with as a kid. It triggers the panic attack, so the shrink says anyway. I had a really good shrink in Boston when I was at MIT. He gave me this programme to help combat the shyness. I guess I let it slip when I started working in computers here. I could slip into the background and stay there.' Frost admits. Scully smiles sympathetically. Both women turn their heads as Agent John Doggett comes through the door.

'Skinner wants to see us ASAP.' He sees Frost trying to blend in with the paintwork. 'Hey, Karen, you got the computer fixed then. What was wrong with it?' Frost mutters about a virus and sorry about being in the way and virtually runs out the door. He turns to Scully. 'What'd I do? She always runs when she sees me coming.'

'Chronic shyness. She's been suffering with it since she was a kid. It's nothing personal. So what does Skinner want?' Scully says, Doggett shrugs.

'Better go and find out.' he says.

AD Skinner's Office

'Come in.' Skinner says in reply to the knock on his door. Scully and
Doggett come in and take their seats. 'How's Mulder?'

'Fine, looking forward to coming back to work.' replies Scully.

'Good, good. I'll be glad to see him again.' he responds.

'So what do you have for us, Sir?' asks Doggett. Skinner hands over a file. Doggett pulls out a photo of what's left of Connor O'Dell. He winces.

'This was handed to us this morning. Connor O'Dell, music journalist for the Boston Globe, didn't turn up for work yesterday. A friend went to his home to see where he was and found this - and it's not the only one. This is Michael Phillips, a session musician from Crabapple Cove, Maine.' says Skinner.

'Why us? It sounds like a serial killer to me.' asks Scully.

'The Boston and Maine PD found some ritualistic items.' he replies.

'Ok, Sir, we'll leave now.' says Scully and they prepare to leave the office.

'Deputy Director Kersh would like this to be an ordinary serial killer. Your last few cases have given him an ulcer.' remarks Skinner. Scully laughs.

'If this is an X File I'll treat him for free.'


Stuart Hazelgrave's House, South Bay, San Franscisco

Maria Sanchez pulls into the drive of her employers house. She gets out of her car searching for the key to the house. The house is un-nervingly quiet. He's usually getting ready for work when she comes in. Maybe he's overslept.

'Senor Stuart? Senor Stuart, it's Maria, are you ok?' she calls. 'Senor Stuart?' She knocks on the bedroom door and pushes it gently.
'Sen... ' She stops and crosses herself as she sees inside the
bedroom. 'Santa Maria have mercy.' she mutters as she runs...


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