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Date Posted: Sun August 20, 2006 21:37:39
Author: Raine Wynd
Subject: Little Things of Venom

Disclaimer and Notes: Not mine and borrowed for the sole purpose of playing in the sandbox. X-Files characters and concepts belong to Chris Carter; Witchblade, to Top Cow. Lyrics for “Little Things of Venom” by Arid courtesy of Marcia Elena.

Little Things of Venom
By Raine Wynd

“Can I help you?” the desk sergeant asked.

“Agents Mulder and Scully, here to see Detective Sara Pezzini,” Scully announced.

The sergeant inspected the ID badges they showed her, made them sign a visitor log, entered their names in a computer, then printed out two visitor badges which they dutifully stuck onto their clothing, then pointed a finger at the stairs. “She’s in Special Projects. You’ll need to take the stairs to the basement, two flights down.”

“Thank you,” Scully said, and glanced at Mulder.

“What?” Mulder asked as they headed towards the stairs. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were grinning, as if you were enjoying the fact that we’re not the only ones who get stuck with basement offices.”

“What, you’d rather I scowled?”

Scully sighed and shook her head, not bothering to respond.

Together, they made short work of the several flights of stairs. As they passed the soda machine at the base of the stairs and stepped into the short hallway, they heard a voice squawk, “Sweet! Sweet rack!”

“I swear, parrot, if you weren’t getting picked up by a parrot rescue organization this afternoon, I’d kill you,” a tired female voice replied. “Shut up and let me concentrate.”

Scully stepped into the only open office in the hallway. She noticed several things simultaneously: a brunette woman wearing a black T-shirt and a shoulder holster sitting at the gun-metal gray desk, holding up a photograph with her right hand and staring at it as if it would reveal clues, a caged parrot worthy of a pirate in the corner of the office, two steel-and-black vinyl guest chairs, and a bulletin board full of photographs and news articles. For a moment, Scully thought she saw a green, metallic, lizard-skin, long glove cover the woman’s right hand and forearm, and then, when Scully blinked, all that was on the woman’s wrist was a jeweled silver bracelet.

“Introduce me to your new friends! Fresh meat!” said the parrot.

Without taking her eyes off the photograph, the woman at the desk said, “If you’re looking for Detective Pezzini, you found her. Otherwise, the bathroom’s down the hall, and yes, the soda machine eats quarters and costs too damn much. Can I help you?”

“We were hoping you could help us, actually,” Scully said. “Agent Scully and Agent Mulder of the FBI.”

Sara put down the photograph. Scully couldn’t help but notice that it was a photograph of a dark tunnel and little else. “So which weird super-secret government experiment am I not supposed to mess with now?” Sara asked testily.

“None,” Mulder replied. “What government experiment?” he wondered, even as Scully tried to step on his toe. He dodged the attack neatly, and she gave up, for the moment, the idea that for once he might stick to the plan.

Sara looked at them. “The one you clearly don’t know about,” she answered. “Which I’m not supposed to talk about. I’ll hang myself by a rope of words if I’m not careful.” She smiled. “So I’d appreciate it if we started over.”

“Get naked!” the parrot squawked. “No skin, no win!”

Mulder raised an eyebrow at the parrot.

“Ignore the parrot. He came with the office,” Sara advised, amused. “Have a seat. What can I help you with?”

“We were told you might know a bit about what happened in the American Museum of Natural History a few months ago,” Mulder said as he and Scully sat down in the two guest chairs.

Sara leaned back in her chair, relaxing. “Someone put a demon-possessed samurai sword in the collection. It decided it was time to wake up and come out to play. What else do you want to know?”

“You say that like demons are nothing new to you,” Scully said, surprised.

The detective shrugged. “I get all the weird cases. Ghosts, demons that had to score before midnight or dawn or some mystical time, sorcerers… all the lovely homicides where someone goes wacko and kills everybody, but no one knows how he did it. It’s either that or the religious cults where they decide to raise a god and fuck the world. What’s your interest?”

Mulder smiled. “We handle all the weird cases. Aliens, supposed demon possessions, all the unexplained phenomena.”

Sara chuckled. “Nice to know I’m not the only one they’ve got working on this stuff.”

“No skin, no win!” the parrot squawked again. “Fresh meat!”

“One track bird,” Scully noted.

Sara didn’t immediately reply. She seemed lost in thought, looking down at her desk as if it held answers. After a long silence, she raised her head and pinned Mulder with her gaze. “You’re not here for information on the sword. At least, not the ketsuma no katana.”

Surprised, Mulder glanced at Scully. They’d debated what they’d heard and read about the detective on the long drive up to New York. What neither of them had been able to figure out was how quickly she’d realize they were interested in the rumors that she possessed a very special object. “What makes you think that?” he asked coolly.

“Last two FBI agents who came looking for me were also looking for something I own. So you’ll pardon me if I’m a little wary when anyone from your agency comes looking to talk to me about anything.” Sara looked at Scully. “Besides, you keep staring at my wrist like you expect it to change.”

“I was just admiring your bracelet.”

“That’s what they all say, but sooner or later, the truth comes out. You’re looking for the Witchblade. Well, congrats. You found it. What I don’t understand is why I keep seeing tanks of black oil when I look at both of you.”

“You don’t deny you’re the wielder of the blade,” Mulder noted, leaning forward with interest.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Hard to deny when the damned thing’s fused to my body.”

“Fused?” Scully asked, startled.

In reply, Sara laid her right arm down on the desk, showing where the ends of the bracelet pierced the underside of her wrist.

“That’s why I couldn’t figure out why it didn’t seem to move when you moved your wrist, like a normal bracelet would,” Scully remarked. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as dying,” Sara replied flatly, pulling her arm back. “So you can see, if you’re here to take it for some government experiment, you’d have to either take me with you or kill me.” She smiled thinly. “I wouldn’t advise either….the ‘blade doesn’t always like who picks it up.”

“Is that how you acquired it?”

Sara laughed richly. “Oh, that’s funny. No, Agent Scully. It wasn’t like someone just ‘dropped’ it on the street and I found it. It found me.”

“Did you know the legends of its existence go –” Mulder began.

“—all the way back in time? Yes, I know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have cases to solve, and no need to go tripping down memory lane as to what this ancient, mystical artifact I wear is.”

“We’re just trying to understand what’s been written, what’s been said about the Witchblade,” Scully said soothingly. “Some say it’s a piece of,” she glanced at Mulder, who looked at her as if he didn’t understand her hesitation, and then found the strength to speak the idea she thought ludicrous, “alien technology.”

“Well, of course it is,” Sara answered without hesitation. “What? Did you honestly think that something that lasts for millennia which can only be worn successfully by a woman, gives her visions, the power to heal, and the ability to shape shift, among other things, could be human made?”

“It’s a possibility,” Scully replied.

“You can shape shift?” Mulder asked a heartbeat later.

“It’s hell on the clothing budget, let me tell you,” Sara said dryly. “And no, I don’t turn into a wolf.” She paused, and then slowly added, “Or anything you’d call alien. The black oil’s a poison, isn’t it?”

“How do you know?” Now it was Mulder’s turn to be surprised.

“I did mention the visions, didn’t I?” Sara’s voice was dry. “Or would you prefer I tried a magic eight ball?”

“Sixty-eight, sixty-nine! Score!” the parrot cried. “Eat her!”

Sara sighed. “Excuse me a moment.” She rose and stalked across the office to the parrot. She put her right hand on the cage, which made the parrot speak even louder and more crudely. Her wrist glowed momentarily, and the bracelet shifted shape. Abruptly, the parrot was silent.

“No, I’m not asking that you guess.” Mulder tried for charming, oddly aware that something had happened between Sara asking her question and his reply. He glanced at his watch, trying to reconcile why he felt like five minutes had passed, and why he could have sworn he’d seen the parrot turn into a ghost of a pirate. Shaking himself, he pushed the odd impression into a corner of his brain to percolate while he concentrated on Sara. “To be honest, we were hoping you might help us fight the aliens who use the black oil as a poison.”

“Sorry,” Sara answered without a hint of apology. “Every time I fight something alien, someone close to me dies.” More gently, she said, “I’m not the tool you need to use. Not for your fight against those…” As her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowed, and the bracelet on her wrist grew to be a gauntlet. When she spoke again, she sounded shaken. “They’re snakes. Little things of venom. Someone’s breeding them.”

“Yes,” Scully said firmly. She didn’t quite know what to think of this woman, but Sara reminded her of some of the magical practitioners she and Mulder had met years before, people whose abilities Scully couldn’t put down to mere science. “That’s why we came to you.”

“Not my fight,” Sara said more clearly. “New York has its own demons…and dragons. Dragons will eat snakes.”

“Last time I looked, dragons didn’t exist,” Scully said testily.

Sara smiled. “There will always be dragons.” Picking up a pen, she wrote an address down on a Post-It Pad and handed it to Scully. “This is an Oriental shop. Tell the old man there what you seek.”

“Does he have a name?” Mulder asked.

“No, but tell him I sent you. He has more answers than I do. Mind, you might not like the answers he provides.” She looked at them and smiled a little sadly. “I certainly didn’t.” Deliberately, she picked up the photo on her desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a murder to solve.”

Taking the cue, Scully and Mulder rose. “Thank you for your time, Detective Pezzini.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Scully waited until they’d exited the building to ask. “Shall we check it out?”

“Hey, if nothing else, I might be able to get some good oolong,” Mulder joked, then stopped when he saw Scully’s scowl. “You think she sent us on a wild goose chase.”

“Mulder, you’d have us talk to every half-baked mystic if you thought it would make a difference.”

Mulder grinned. “Come on. I’ll buy you lunch either way.”

Scully sighed and gave in. She knew all too well that in their effort to find the truth, the meeting with Detective Pezzini was just another in a long string of leads down dark alleys. Maybe this time, this one would pan out; more than likely, it wouldn’t. If they were lucky or unfortunate – Scully was still not sure if what they’d found so far was a good thing — what Detective Pezzini had told them would lead them down to something completely unexpected. Either way, they’d gotten confirmation of what they’d come to New York to find: the Witchblade, and that, at least, was one thing Scully could say they’d accomplished.

Finis 8-18-06

Lyrics used marked with *

Little Things of Venom (Arid)

Out on the scene today
Blasted in every way
Got you*
Caught on the other side
Some things you just can’t hide*
Feel the poison of change in me
All that I’ll ever be
Comes back
Crushing on into me
Here it comes again
Has it spotted you
Oh no
Have they got you too
Oh no
Has it spotted you
Oh no
Have they got you too
Oh no
With every step it takes
Something inside me breaks
Hang myself by a rope of words
Whether or not it hurts
Got to
Save you from all of your
Demons that had to score*
Every trick that you’ve pulled before
Here it comes again
Has it spotted you
Oh no
Have they got you too
Oh no
Has it spotted you
Oh no
Have they got you too
Oh no
We’re heading for a fall
Set your mind at ease
Won’t you save us from
These little things?
One of my feelings took a ride today
Into a black box and it came out gray
Has it spotted you
Oh no
Have they got you too
Oh no
Has it spotted you
Oh no
We’re heading for a fall
Set your mind at ease
Won’t you save us from
These little things?

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