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F-Files III: Liposnatcher
By Sasha Steele


"Assholes," Sheriff Jonas fumed after slamming down the phone, "all we need is the damn FBI sticking their noses in down here. I admit it's damn odd the way they were killed but still no reason for the Bureau to come poking around."

"Now they figure it's their jurisdiction?" his deputy asked.

"Say it's a serial killer. Ask me, every one's a serial killer far as their concerned."

"When they coming, Sheriff?"

"An agent's on her way down already. They said this is right up her alley. I can't wait," he added sarcastically.

Acting field supervisor Latimer hung up the phone and smiled to herself. With Skinner away another two weeks this might be her last chance to catch Scully at her own game. "Revenge is sweet, you fat bitch," Latimer said to herself, thinking about how Scully had made her look the fool in front of the review board on the recent test at the academy. "I know she rigged her score - no way could she beat me," Latimer frowned, convinced that the upgrading was constructed merely to weed out inferior agents, like that extremely overweight Dana Scully.

Latimer knew how difficult Sheriff Jonas could be to work with; she herself had had the pleasure once before, and it was a mess. Scully would be all on her own down there; Latimer had seen to that. And physically unable to perform. Jonas would eat Scully alive; for a hick sheriff Jonas seemed to have a lot of friends in high places. Wait till he sees her, Latimer laughed; he'll have her packing in no time flat and I'll have her big fat ass in a sling.

Deputy Dufrane did a second take when Scully waddled into Southstick's police headquarters. He had never before seen a woman quite so large, and yet he had to admit that for all her great bulk Scully was indeed a very attractive woman. "Agent Scully, FBI," she said, breathing hard while flipping open her ID pass, "I believe Sheriff Jonas is expecting me."

The deputy took a moment eyeing Scully up and down before looking at her ID. This FBI field agent was indeed exceptionally pretty and exceptionally fat. Dressed in a rather large size black designer suit, Jim Dufrane, a one time Chicago detective, couldn't help but take in all the details of Scully's appearance. For instance, her fat pear-shaped face was perfectly made-up and attractive with just the right amount of jewelry, earrings and a small pearl necklace. Her shoulder-length auburn colored hair enhanced the beauty of her face.

The double breasted jacket of her black suit - though Scully was obviously huge breasted - showed only a bit of cleavage and fit tightly around them, across a thick back, and against her massive protruding stomach. And the black skirt - she must be confident in her sex appeal, Jim thought, to have worn it that short and tight. The skirt barely covered that huge belly and gigantic rear, and was tight across her extremely wide hips, its shortness exposing the thickest, heaviest thighs that he had ever laid eyes on. Her massive legs, he saw, looked rather sexy in dark gray stockings and five inch heeled sling backs.

Yes, this FBI agent was huge, but she was also beautiful. "I'll tell him you're here, Agent Scully," he said, getting up, "please have a seat."

Scully chose a sturdy looking chair with no arms and lowered her big three foot wide rear end onto it, praying that her six hundred and twenty five pound body would be supported without mishap. The chair groaned as it accepted her great weight but held firm.

Jonas filled Scully in on the details of the murder case, turning to Dufrane as soon as she left his office to find a hotel room. "It's a joke, right; someone murders a fat lady so the FBI sends another fat lady to investigate. It's gotta be a joke. I think maybe I had better call the director right now and see what the hell is going on."

"Don't be too hasty there, Carl," Dufrane said, "Maybe she is the right one for this job..."

Sheriff Jonas cut him off; he knew that his deputy from the big city was one smart cookie, after all. "I see what you mean; if the killer's gonna strike again, well, let's just say that there aren't too many around here as big as she is." The killer had been targeting large women, but using agent Scully as bait wasn't what Deputy Dufrane had in mind at all. He was simply pleading for the sheriff to give her a chance before calling anyone. "Stick with her Jim, I don't want her out of your sight, here."

"Yes sir," Deputy Dufrane answered, giving in for the moment. Scully wanted to examine the body; he would give her a moment to settle in and then call.

Scully hung up her clothes, freshened herself up and was checking her striking appearance in the mirror when he called. "We'll have to hurry," Jim Dufrane told her, "Doc Stein gets testy anything past four o'clock. I'll pick you up."

"That's fine," Scully answered, replacing the phone. She hadn't eaten since noon; it was already past three and she was absolutely famished. A quick look at the corpse and she would go to that nice restaurant spotted on the way in to eat. The way her stomach was growling as she shakily placed her fat hands onto its impressive spaciousness, Dana knew that she would have to eat very soon and that she would definitely need to eat a lot.

Jim opened the passenger door as the immense Agent Scully waddled her way to his car in front of her hotel. He had thought to draw the seat back for her and watched with some fascination how the size of those hulking thighs impeded her walk so that she had to waddle with her feet apart - rather sexily, he thought. And as she edged her unwieldy backside into the car seat, leaning way back in order to draw her massive legs in, flashing the lace tops of her nylon stockings in the process. He closed her door and got in the other side.

Breathing hard from the considerable effort it had taken her, Agent Scully said, "Let's go," adding, "Not too far, I hope."

"Just around the corner," Jim said, pulling up in front of the county coroner's office in no time. It was more difficult for Dana to get out of the car than for her to get into it, he noticed, assisting her and feeling first hand just how heavy agent Scully actually was. They went inside, Scully taking a moment to regain her breath before examining the body, and Dufrane saw that she was not the least bit squeamish.

Bruising around the tiny puncture marks covered the dead girl's entire body; her skin hung like a blanket in loose folds from her frame. "You say she weighed well over four hundred pounds before she died, Doctor?" Scully inquired as she examined the body now devoid of any fat whatsoever. Then adding before he could answer, "These puncture marks, I take it, are where whoever did this sucked all the fat from her body."

"Yes," Doctor Stein replied, "The exact cause of death was due to heart failure. She was alive when this was done to her; the trauma of it actually killed her, same as the one over in Mathon."

"You did the autopsy on that one, too, then?" Dana asked. "She had been quite fat as well?"

"That girl was about this same weight, cause of death the same," he reported.

"I see, thank you, Doctor," Dana said finishing her examination. They went back out to the Deputy's car. "Deputy Dufrane," Scully breathed after struggling herself into it, "Would you mind dropping me off at that restaurant on the edge of town? I'm really hungry and need to eat."

"Okay, sure; looks if we're going to be working together - call me Jim. Okay? The Rainbow has really good food, Agent Scully. Mind if I join you?" he asked.

Dana studied him for a moment. "Dana," she said, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Okay, Jim, the Rainbow it is." They arrived; Jim helped pull her from the car and they went inside, finding a bench seat that would accommodate Dana's yard wide ass. Sipping a glass of wine, she studied the menu; everything looked good. "God, I'm so hungry," Dana thought, wondering what she could order to appease her insatiable appetite.

"I recommend their prime rib special," Jim said, breaking Dana's concentration, “It's the best and quite large; I mean if you're really hungry," he quickly added.

"Thank you, Jim, I am really hungry," Dana said taking his recommendation, ordering the prime rib special and hoping that it would be enough to satisfy her enormous appetite. Jim was right; the prime rib special was quite large, but Dana knew straight away that it would not be enough for her. "You'll have to excuse me, Jim," she said ordering a second plate, "but I'm famished, and do eat a lot even at the best of times."

"Nothing wrong with a woman who has a good appetite," he offered, giving Dana a smile of approval, though he could see that this big beautiful woman didn't need anybody's approval, or need to make any excuses for herself. If six hundred and twenty five pound FBI field agent Dana Scully wanted to eat, she was damn well going to eat and if he didn't like it, too damn bad.

Scully went through her first twenty-ounce prime rib special without hardly a word, and deputy Dufrane could readily see that this was a woman who loved to eat. "Mmmmmmmmmmmm, you were so right Jim," she cooed, digging into the second serving. "This prime rib is delicious." Dana didn't seem to slow down much as she finished her second meal and started into the desserts - three in all, counting the one that he had ordered. Then, nearing the end of her desserts, she finally started to fill up. Jim Dufrane marveled at Dana's enormous capacity and knew now why she weighed as much as she did.

Back at her hotel Dana asked if he would carry the reports from the car to her room for her. "Thank you, Jim," she said; "tomorrow at say eleven, then, we'll drive to Mathon to see the other body." Then, as he was about to leave, "Would you mind," she asked with just a hint of self-consciousness, "undoing me? My skirt has dug in so much it may be too difficult for me to get at." Generally, Dana had no trouble turning them around on herself so that she could get at the zipper, but this skirt had been a bit too tight even before she had bloated herself.

"No problem," Jim said, stepping behind her impressive width and shakily completing the task. "Eleven in the morning; see you then," Deputy Dufrane said, leaving. He nodded, acknowledging the plain clothes officer in the lobby as he walked out to his car.

Dana reached around her unwieldy bulging stomach, undoing her XXX-large suit jacket, slipping it from her thick smooth shoulders. She slinked out of her skirt, dropping it to the floor, stepping out and tottering over to the full-length mirror to examine herself dressed only in her underwear. Dana's massive watermelon-like breasts sat heavily in the huge cups of her lacy black bra. Her extremely large sized black nylon/spandex panties, which - when held up - spread almost as far as she could hold out her massive fleshy arms, were stretched across her huge round imposing butt, the front panel containing the lower portion of an equally large bulging stomach. Balanced on her black high-heeled shoes, Dana's cumbersome hulking legs looked huge and sexy in dark gray stockings with fancy laced elastic tops. Dana put her hands against the smoothness of her panties and felt her hard stomach. She turned, admiring her capacious self in the mirror, and knew that she was beautiful.

Dana awoke from her nap at about eight, slipping into a pair of tight gray gym pants and a black loose fitting tee shirt. She laced up her chunky black boots and waddled down the hallway into the hotel's small dinning area, deciding on the roast chicken after studying the menu for a minute, and once again gorged to fill her more-than-ample capacity. It wasn't until almost eleven when she got the call from Dufrane waking her from a dead sleep.

There had been another murder in the county; he'd be over to pick her up in fifteen minutes.


Of course, the first thing that Deputy Sheriff Jim Dufrane noticed when he fetched FBI agent Dana Scully at her hotel was the details of her appearance: how she was dressed, how her auburn hair hung around her beautiful puffy face, how her massive body wiggled and bounced as she moved. As fat as Agent Scully was, Jim Dufrane found her extremely attractive. He had checked with his man on first watch. "She came in about eight and pigged out for an hour; man can she eat," he had said. "Been in her room since.”

Dana was again dressed all in black, Jim saw: open jacket over tee shirt, tight pants, a belt, lace up boots and purse slung over one of her thick heavy shoulders. "When did it happen?" Scully asked, fussing her hair away from her beautiful fat face as she struggled her weight into Deputy Dufrane's police car.

"They found her about half an hour ago; coroner's on his way now," Jim told her, as they sped off to the nearby town of Stager. "Same as the other girls - all the fat's been drained from her body.”

"She was quite heavy before her death?" Dana asked.

"Yup, four hundred fifty, maybe five hundred pounds, a pretty girl, young, blond, worked as a waitress.” Deputy Dufrane filled Scully in the details as they drove. "Same MO, no signs of forcible entry, beat her up a bit before sticking her, no sexual assault. Prints lifted will likely match.” Scully had sent the two previous sets in; they matched each other: male, quite large, no record. "She was found on the second floor in an abandoned warehouse but apparently taken from her home, no witnesses.” The details were all the same as the two previous girls.

At the crime scene Scully examined the girl's dead body, lying there on the floor in her underwear, which like her skin was now way too large for her frame. Her face - not long ago round and fat, now hollow and sunken - hit home to Scully.

"You okay, Scully?" Jim Dufrane asked.

"I'm fine,” she told him, "I want to see her apartment and then come back here when they're all finished. Okay, Sheriff Jonas?" She asked.

"All right with me missy, long as Jim here stays with you. And you will let me know first hand if you come up with anything; that is, if we happen to miss something, which I doubt.” The sheriff raised his thick eyebrows to further his point.

"Of course," Agent Scully assured him. "Let's go Jim,” she said, waddling her great weight toward the cargo lift, quietly thankful that it was working and she hadn't be confronted with the problem of having to use a set of stairs which Dana avoided at all costs. At the victim's apartment, Scully interviewed the night clerk. As he had told the police, she had come in and far as he was concerned hadn't left; even if she used the stairs to the back door, she would have had to come past - he would have seen her. Scully looked out her windows; at five hundred pounds there was no way. "Thank you,” she said, and they left.

Driving back toward the crime scene, Jim noticed Dana turn and look as they came upon a fast food place still open. "Look," he said, "if it's going to be a long night, then maybe we should get some coffee and a couple of burgers or something; it's been quite a spell since the prime rib specials at the Rainbow.”

Of course, he knew that Scully had eaten again since then, but just the same he figured that it was her business how much she ate, and if she was hungry again the least he could do was to offer her the opportunity to get something to eat. Of course, Dana was hungry - even if she wasn't, she wouldn't have been able to resist. "Yes, thank you Jim; I think that's a good idea,” Scully told him, even though she didn't think that they would be too long back at the warehouse.

"I'll get it,” he said, jumping out, "what would you like?"

"Two bacon cheeseburgers, double order of French fries, onion rings and an extra large strawberry milk shake,” Dana told him, her mouth watering in anticipation. It would have been torture, except for the fact that Jim brought out two chocolate bars that the fast food restaurant was giving away on a promotion for Dana to eat while she waited. She dove in immediately, and they sat and ate in silence before returning to the warehouse. "She really does love to eat,” he observed in awe of her appetite.

Taking the lift back up to the crime scene, Scully was aware that her belt was too tight and struggled to loosen it before Jim offered his help and did it for her. "Thanks, that's better,” Scully said, breathing a sign of relief as she waddled from the lift with her massive legs held wide apart but still rubbing together as she walked. They were inside checking around; Jim had taken the stairs up to the loft by himself because the lift did not travel to that area, when Scully heard something in the next room.

"Jim,” she called, taking out her gun, checking the load and clicking off the safety, “Jim." The gun in both hands held against her huge protruding belly, Scully inched toward the doorway to investigate.

Deputy Dufrane thought that he heard Dana call him. He started down, then definitely heard her scream. He took out his gun and ran to where the scream had come from, checked all around.

But she was gone.


"What the Sam Hell do you mean: disappeared?" County Sheriff Carl Jonas snarled, "I trusted you boy, you let me down. Now you get back out there and find something. We got..." he checked his watch, "four hours before this Dogget fella arrives, now move it.” There wasn't much that Deputy Dubane could say. He had already been over the warehouse with a fine tooth comb and found nothing. Going back wouldn't accomplish anything, but he had little choice.

Jim Dubane sat on the chair where he had left FBI agent Dana Scully when he went to the loft. He remembered coming down the stairs after she had called him with the distinct impression that she had rounded the corner just seconds before he hand done the same, and yet she was already gone. Jim walked to the doorway and rounded the corner. Absurd as it sounded, he knew that in the blink of an eye the extremely obese Bureau agent had been snatched away. He remembered hearing what had sounded like a low mechanical hum before she had screamed. Dubane checked the floor again for clues; there had to be something. Then he heard the same sound again directly behind him.

Scully had let out a scream as she fell unconscious, the pain of some kind of electric shock on the back of her neck being the last thing she remembered. She went to rub back there and realized that her hands were bound. Looking around, Dana saw that she was lying on an old stained bed in the bottom of some sort of abandoned factory that she did not recognize. Outside of the immediate area lay old machinery of some sort and garbage and dust. Beside her was an array of scientific or medical equipment of a nature that was unknown to her.

Dana was in her underwear, black panties and bra. She was fat, extremely so, and knew that her fat was the reason why she had been abducted. She also knew that her fate would be the same as that of the other fat girls who had been taken, with all the fat gruesomely removed from their dead bodies. Struggling with her bindings, Dana was afraid and called out, "Help, somebody help me, HELP!" But nobody heard.

Deputy Jim Dubane turned quickly, drawing his weapon as soon as he heard the sound only to have it powerfully taken from his hand. He tried one punch and then another, but was easily stopped by his adversary. "Hold on there for just one minute, Deputy", the strange looking man told him in a calm voice while still restraining his wrists in a vice-like grip. "We are on the same side.”

"What the hell have you done with her?" Dubane screamed in anger, still struggling.

"I'm on your side, I said. Now calm down; we are hunting the same animal. Are you telling me that agent Scully is missing?"

"Yes," the deputy said, coming to his senses as the stranger released his hold. He didn't trust him, but at the moment it didn't matter. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, but if we are to save her, we'll need to find her quickly. He's likely to have taken her to someplace like this where he can work uninterrupted for a least an hour. How long ago was she taken?"

Dubane checked his watch, "Twenty minutes ago.”

"Any place you can think of in a fifteen mile radius?"

"There's the old iron works other side of town."

"Let's go." About to turn and leave, Dubane fumbled for his car keys.

"No time," the stranger said, taking out a hand-held remote of some sort with a display. "Here it is,” he said, setting the coordinates and pressing a button. The display showed the location, the view turning in all directions. "Can't see anyone in the immediate area," he said, hitting another button which projected a beam causing a tiny area of distortion which grew to a circle of over six feet. It was the old iron works that had showed on the display. "Let's go," the stranger said.

Deputy Dubane stood there hesitantly a moment, then stepped through. They were actually in the old iron works. "How did you do that?" he asked as the image of the warehouse from where they had just come disappeared into the remote.

"You don't want to know," the stranger said and, handing Deputy Dubane back his gun, added, "Here, you'll need this; it'll take a lot to bring him down.” He took the gun and stepped back raising it. "My name is John,” the stranger told him. "You'll have to trust me if you want to save her.”

"Okay, John, trust you - for now, anyway."

"Take the far end; I'll search down there. We'll have to be quick.” And they were but turned up nothing. "How long how?" John asked.

"It's been thirty minutes."

"He'll be tooling up now; any other locations you can think of?"

"The abandoned textile plant outside of Southstick,” Jim Dubane told him.

John dialed up his display. "Got it,” he said, checking the sweep on the tiny monitor. Then he pressed the button, and they stepped through into the old textile plant. "Listen,” John said, "do you hear it?" And Deputy Sheriff Jim Dubane did hear it. It was Agent Dana Scully screaming for her life.

Dana cringed in horror when she first saw him creep from the shadows. Almost seven feet tall, he looked powerful in his black uniform (which was reminiscent of the SS), yet at the moment seemed weakened. She shook as he brought his ugly face close to hers and ran a cold finger over a fat cheek. His face and hands were a ghoulish flat gray color, the skin upon them paper-thin so that every sine and vessel showed as if he had no skin at all. His hair was white and thin, his teeth yellow.

"Such lovely fat,” he breathed, his stench almost unbearable. "I'll need to relieve you of that, but first a little toast. This haul will net me a fortune." And he laughed a horrific laugh as he took up a rather large syringe, which caused Dana to cringe once again. But then the monster placed it to his own neck and ran the substance contained in it into his own jugular vein. "Arrrrgh,” he cried out in pain and slumped almost to the floor.

Then he began to change, becoming more human like in appearance, his skin thickening and taking on color, and he seemed to grow stronger. "You see, my sweet, I need your fat; you have hogged it long enough," and he laughed again, suddenly upturning the dirty mattress she was on, dumping her into a container much like a coffin. Dana's wrists, bound to the bed, twisted, and she cried out in pain.


Scully's captor broke her bonds as if they were threads and stuffed her into the container, closing down the lid much like a tanning bed except much more restricting. She realized to her horror that the thousands of orifices in its surface housed the suction needles that would pierce her flesh and through which all of her fat would be sucked out, killing her in the process. "Oh, God, help me, HELP!" she screamed.

"Hold it right there!" Deputy Dubane hollered, his gun out in front. The monster looked up and with lightning reflexes drew a weapon and fired, at the same time turning to avoid Dubane's bullet. The deputy had never seen anyone move that fast, but he didn't have time to marvel at it. He was struck in the chest and fell to the floor unconscious and bleeding to death. Fast as the ghoul could move, he was unable to completely avoid John, who had silently fanned out to the left and fired at the same time as Jim Dubane had. John's shot had caught him in the shoulder causing him to twist sideways, missing the deputy's heart by inches, and he crashed into the suction machine which toppled over spilling Scully, all six hundred and twenty five pounds of her, onto the mattress on the floor.

In a blink, the monster fired back at John, hitting him in the shoulder. He rolled to cover, and they exchanged many shots, which were pulses of light rather than bullets. It was uncanny how fast they both moved, but clearly the ghoulish freak was the better. "You!" he hollered in that hell-spawned voice. "How many times do I have to kill you?" Rolling and dodging each other, they exchanged firepower in among the machinery until finally John was stopped with a deadly wound to the head. He lay helpless, fighting against losing consciousness. "Well, this is the last time," the killer said, taking aim.

Scully had crashed to the floor uninjured, the mattress cushioning her fall. There, just under the bed, she spotted her purse, her clothes and her gun, half hidden in the pile. As the battle raged on, she had stretched to retrieve it, her massive size making it difficult. Then, gun in hand, she struggled onto her oversized knees, taking aim with her thick arms resting on the overturned liposuction unit. Scully was a dead shot, and all her skill was needed now. She fired. He heard the retort, with lightning speed looking up to avoid the projectile, too late. Scully's bullet entered his right eye, and he was dead.

She fought her weight to stand up and waddled over to the body, gun cautiously held out in front of her colossal belly to make sure he was dead. She looked at John; his head wound appeared fatal. Scully waddled over to where Deputy Jim Dubane was lying and awkwardly lowered herself onto her knees. He was still breathing but losing a lot of blood. Then, shocked, she noticed John was at her side, his head wound nothing like she thought it had been. "He's lost a lot of blood; if we don't get him to hospital right away, he'll die," she said.

John knelt down and put his hand on Deputy Dubane's chest wound. Scully saw a glow of light under it and then saw Jim Dubane stir. "He'll be all right now," John said, standing up. Scully noticed that there was no trace of a head wound on him now.

"How did you do that?" she stammered as Dubane came back into consciousness.

"You don't want to know," was all John said as he stood up and began to gather up certain items from around the killer's body. "You know, some things can't be left," he told her. Scully said nothing. John helped her to her feet, and she suddenly realized that she was still in her underwear.

"I was hit," Deputy Dubane said, sitting up and examining his chest. "Thought I was dead. You saved our lives. I guess that trust thing can be extended, thank you."

John helped him to his feet, "Actually she saved both of us - quite a woman, your Agent Scully," and they both looked as she fought to wriggle her tight black pants over an enormously fat ass. Jim Dubane helped Scully to do up her pants and held her coat so that she could slip her massive arms into it.

"Why?" Scully asked. "Why collect fat?"

"Not too long in the future," John began, "the percentage of fat people in the world rose steadily until almost every person was grossly overweight. It was fashionable for the longest time but then began to decline. One group sold a gene treatment to reduce fat retention. Something went terribly wrong, and as the human race declined they lost the ability to retain any fat at all. The consequences were horrendous. Injected human fat became a commodity, so they decided to farm it. In the year twenty-five-twenty-five, Agent Scully, your body is worth five billion dollars."

"But you aren't like that," she said, pointing to the killer's body.

"No, I'm just like you, but I've seen them. They murdered my wife for her fat and will not stop until they are destroyed," John said cryptically as he stepped through into another space. "Take care of her, Deputy Dubane, she's special," and he was gone.


It had been a long day and a hard night. The police report would say the serial killer was brought down by a bullet to the head fired by FBI agent Dana Scully. Scully wasn't sure yet just what her report would say. Doggit had been delayed and wouldn't arrive till the evening. They decided to call it a night and catch up the paper work in the morning.

Dana crawled out of bed at eleven a.m. and ate breakfast in the hotel cafeteria, again dressed in her tight gray track pants and loose-fitting black tee shirt. Hungry after her ordeal the night before, she consumed a pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, almost a whole loaf of buttered toast, and enough hash browns to sink a ship. Dana gorged so much that she had trouble getting back to her room and delayed Deputy Dubane from picking her up until two so she could sleep it off.

When he did arrive, Dana had managed to bathe and dress in a light gray form-fitting designer suit, the short skirt so tight now, that she had to get Jim to help her do it up. Dana had on a powder blue silk blouse under her jacket, black five inch pump style heels, beige lace top nylon stockings, and although Jim Dubane couldn't see them, delicate, albeit huge sized, light blue panties and bra. Her makeup done, hair blown dry, the beautiful six hundred and twenty five pound obese FBI agent was ready to tackle another day.

"You were right about her, Jim," Sheriff Jonas said as they watched Dana through the glass wall of his office while she worked at the computer. "Not too many people could use themselves as bait and bring down a serial killer while we stood around with our finger up our ass. I think I will call the Commissioner; that is quite a young lady we have there." Deputy Dubane had to agree; Dana was something else.

"There's another restaurant, other end of town: Antonio's, great Italian food. Can I buy supper?" Jim asked.

"Mmmmm, that sounds good," Dana said, touching her bulging stomach. "Let's go." Dubane helped her into his car and out again at Antonio's. Dana scanned the menu and ordered linguini - and lots of it. They shared a bottle of wine and said their goodbyes, while Dana once again stuffed herself before heading back to police headquarters just ahead of Doggit's arrival.

Doggit sat down beside Scully in the airport lounge; he had called in and was smiling. "The Commissioner reamed Latimer pretty good," Doggit said. "She's history." Their flight wasn't until nine. "Look, we've got over an hour," he said, looking at his watch, "how about something to eat?"

"Five billion dollars," Scully thought, remembering what John had said her beautiful fat body was worth. She took up another fork full from her fish and chips and mused as she chewed, "Just adding to my assets."