Title:             The Met Files
Author:            Augustus
Email:             gaius_octavius_@hotmail.com
Slash/Fanfic Page: http://go.to/fabulae
Fandom:            The Bill
Pairing:           None really. OMG - me, writing non-slash? Can it be true?
Rating:            G (aus) or U (uk) - and that's an indication of alien
                   influence if I've *ever* seen one.
Status:            New, complete
Category:          AU, Parody.
Series:            The third in the "Dollar Bills" series. They're all stand-
                   alones, though.
Archival:          All official list archives are fine. Anyone else just
                   ask. I'm not about to say no *g*
Feedback:          I live for it *g*. Email or onlist. Whatever *g*.


Warnings: I've only really just recently become a fan of the X-
Files, so if I get it wrong I beg eternal forgiveness *g* This was
concluded at 5am under the very strong influence of the flu. I'm
sorry *g*

Summary: CID goes FBI.

Disclaimer: These names officially belong to Pearson TV. Let's
face it, though - they're no longer in their natural habitat. The
concept belongs to Ten Thirteen Inc. and Fox - I think - but I
plead innocent to all charges of naughtiness.



*************

The Met Files

*************



(The FBI building. The camera moves down the corridor -
accompanied by the prerequisite eerie music - and enters the
office of Assistant Director Meadows. He is sitting at his desk,
sifting through paperwork. There is a blinding flash of light from
the window. When everything returns to "normal", Meadows has
disappeared……

Cue opening credits. Various pictures of paranormal scenes flash
across the screen to spooky - and yet rather catchy - backing
music. We are shown images of Agent Geoff Daly's and Agent Kerry
Holmes' FBI I.D.s before it's back to the weird stuff. Finally the
music fades and the visuals are replaced by black.

Cut to Daly's office. He is wearing a cheap looking suit and
digging through a filing cabinet, back to camera. There is a knock
at the door.)

DALY:  Yeah?

(Enter Holmes. She's wearing a business suit of her own. Her hair
is the shade of red least suited to undercover investigations. Her
voice remains a monotone throughout.)

HOLMES: I'm afraid it's bad news, Daly.

DALY: What now? Have aliens abducted another member of my family?
Am I on the hit list of yet another conspiracy organisation?

HOLMES: Worse.

DALY: (Leaping from his desk) Don't tell me they've taken my plaid
shirt collection!

(Holmes raises a hand to stop him from dashing back to his
apartment to check.)

HOLMES: No, your shirts are safe. It's…… it's Assistant Director
Meadows!

DALY:  What? He wants me in his office for another lecture?

(He moves as if to head off to face the music.)

DALY: As long as he doesn't rant on about wanting to be Sutie
Impendent again. Hell, I don't even think the FBI *has*
Superintendents and if they did I doubt they'd be promoting a
drunken sot like him to the position…

HOLMES: It's not that, Daly. I'm afraid he's……

DALY:  What? Drunk? Insane?

HOLMES: Gone! He's been kidnapped!

(Daly frowns, looking back over at the filing cabinet.)

DALY:  Kidnapped…… or *abducted*?

HOLMES: Oh, Daly, do you have to relate *everything* back to those
damn aliens of yours?

DALY:  It's my job.

HOLMES: Not today, it isn't. We've been given the Meadows case.
We're to find out who -

DALY:  (Jumping in) - or what……

HOLMES: (Firmly) *Who* captured him. And why?

DALY:  That's a good question.

HOLMES: (Musing) Who would want to abduct a middle-aged, balding
Assistant Director?

DALY:  Someone with peculiar taste in men?

HOLMES: Perhaps someone with a grudge against the FBI.

DALY: Was he working on any cases at the moment? Perhaps he got
too close to something sensitive.

HOLMES: (Raising an eyebrow) Meadows working on a case? You're
joking, right? The only times he leaves that office is when he
pops down to the hospital for some reason or another.

DALY:  True.

(There's a moment of silence while they both ponder this little
poser of a problem.)

DALY:  Are you sure he's actually missing?

HOLMES: What do you mean?

DALY: Well, perhaps he's just wandered off. He could be going a
little senile or something - you never know.

HOLMES: He's not *that* old, Daly.

DALY:  Well? I don't see you coming up with anything.

HOLMES: I still think it's something to do with his role as
Assistant Director. That's a big card to have up your sleeve if
you want to trump the FBI.

DALY:  Well *I* still think it's aliens. Who else would want him?

HOLMES: The mob?

DALY: (Smirking) Should I be looking out for a horse's head when I
climb into bed tonight?

HOLMES: This is no joking matter, Daly. Meadows could be in
serious danger.

DALY:  (Nods) And it's up to us to find out the truth……



(Assistant Director Meadows' office. Agents Daly and Holmes are
ferreting about the place, searching for clues to his
disappearance. Holmes digs a file out of a pile on his desk)

HOLMES: I knew it! Daly! Look at this.

(Daly moves to her side. Despite the fact that he can now see it
for himself, Holmes feels the need to describe it anyway. Lucky
for us, huh?)

HOLMES: It's some sort of contract, but it's not written in
English.

DALY:  Do you recognise the language?

HOLMES: No……

DALY:  It could be an alien dialect.

HOLMES: I think it's more likely that it’s a Middle Eastern
language of some variety.

DALY:  (Shrugging) You never know.

HOLMES: Do you think it's relevant?

DALY: Who knows? It could be - or it might just be a receipt for
an international shipment of plaid shirts.

HOLMES: You're the only one around here into that kinky stuff.

DALY:  Oh, you'd be surprised……

(They resume their searching. Suddenly there is a gasp of
discovery and Agent Daly emerges from a pile of papers clutching
the Assistant Director's Diary.)

DALY:  Meadows' diary! There could be a clue somewhere in here.

HOLMES: I don't know…… are you sure we should be looking in there?
We don't want to invade his privacy.

DALY:  It's his work diary. (Shrugging) What are we going to find?

(He flicks through a few pages then recoils in horror.)

DALY:  Eurgh!

HOLMES: What's wrong?

DALY:  (Choking) …… nude…… photos……

HOLMES: I warned you, Daly.

DALY:  I know. I think I'll skip to today's appointments.

HOLMES: Somehow I doubt whomever's abducted him rang ahead to make
an appointment.

DALY:  I'm not suggesting that they gave that as their reason.

(He flicks to the current day.)

DALY: Hmm…… at ten am he had an appointment with someone he refers
to only as "the smoking man".

HOLMES: That's odd.

DALY: And to make things even odder, he's marked in an appointment
with Burnside at eleven.

HOLMES: Burnside? You mean?

DALY:  (Seriously) The man who killed my father……

HOLMES: This isn't making sense.

DALY:  Does anything ever make sense for us?

HOLMES: Do you think Burnside and this smoking man had anything to
do with Meadows' disappearance?

DALY:  Yeah. Well - that's if it wasn't aliens.

HOLMES: (Screaming) Enough about the damn aliens!

DALY:  The truth is out there.

HOLMES: Yeah, well so are your wacko theories.

DALY:  Thanks for the support, Agent Holmes.

HOLMES: You're welcome. Now, how do you suppose we find these men?

DALY:  Should I try his address book?

HOLMES: Nah. Too easy.

(Daly does so anyway.)

DALY: Yup! Here's Burnside's address. Oh, and look! That smoking
fellow lives just up the road! How convenient.

HOLMES: (Grumpy at having been proven wrong) Yeah. Fantastic.

DALY:  I guess we'd better head out there.

HOLMES: Your car or mine?

DALY: Neither. When have we ever carried out investigations in our
own city?  They live in Texas. I suggest we fly.

HOLMES: (As they walk out the door) Accounts aren't going to like
this.

DALY: (His voice fading as they disappear) Accounts don't like
anything.  Hey, I wonder if Texas has different plaid shirts to
the ones you can get here……



(We're now located somewhere in Texas. Holmes and Daly are walking
up the front path of a very middle-class American style home. Daly
knocks manfully on the front door. Burnside himself answers it.)

BURNSIDE: Daly.

DALY:  Burnside.

BURNSIDE: Are you going to tell me why you're here?

HOLMES: Don't try to pretend that you don't know.

DALY: What have you done with Assistant Director Meadows,
Burnside?

BURNSIDE: Who?

HOLMES: We know you had an appointment with him this morning. And
now he's gone missing.

BURNSIDE: (Turning to Daly) What? No alien abduction theories,
Daly?

DALY: Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? No, Burnside, we're all
aware that you're more than capable of pulling a stunt like this.

(Burnside grins evilly.)

BURNSIDE: Capable? Sure. That doesn't prove I had anything to do
with Meadows disappearing, though, does it?

DALY: Since when have I needed proof, Burnside? I know you killed
my father,  and I know that you had something to do with this.
That's enough for me. (He turns to Holmes) Go on, shoot him,
Holmes!

HOLMES: Uh, Daly, I don't think that's such a good idea.

DALY:  (Whinging) Oh, why not? We never get to shoot anyone.

HOLMES: We're here to find out the truth, not to blast it into
oblivion.

DALY:  It's an option, though.

HOLMES: (Firmly) No it isn't.

DALY:  Damn.

BURNSIDE: Well, much as I'd like to stand around listening to you
two squabbling all day, I'm afraid I have to organise my shirt
collection.

HOLMES: (Nodding) We'll be in contact.

DALY:  (Eagerly) You wouldn't have any plaid, would you?

(Burnside shuts the door in their faces. They turn and walk down
the path.)

HOLMES: Shall we try that smoking fellow

DALY:  Oh, what's the point? You won't let me shoot him anyway.

(Holmes' mobile phone rings. She answers and we are party to her
side of the conversation.)

HOLMES: Hello?…… Yeah…… He *what*?…… When?…… What did he say?……
Yeah, Okay……

(She hangs up and turns to look at Daly, eyebrows lowered.)

HOLMES: That was the FBI. Apparently Assistant Director Meadows is
back.

DALY:  What?!? But Burnside……

HOMES: Burnside had nothing to do with it, Daly. Meadows says that
he just popped out for a walk.

DALY:  What?!? But he *never* pops out for a walk.

HOLMES: That's what he's saying, Daly. It's not for us to
challenge him about it.

DALY:  No? We'll see about that. I want the *truth*, Holmes.

HOLMES: You know, this whole truth motif is getting a little
boring, Daly.  Can't you get another angle? Like, you're doing
this for fame and fortune or something else a little more
noughties?

DALY:  The truth is out there, Holmes.

HOLMES: Yeah, yeah, whatever.



(Back at FBI headquarters. Shot of the inside of Assistant
Director's door. There is a knock.)

MEADOWS: (Out of shot) Come in.

(Daly and Holmes enter and the shot broadens so that we can see
all three people. Daly is staring carefully at Meadows, as if
examining him for alien probes.)

MEADOWS: Ahh, Holmes and Daly. Nice to see you. How was your
weekend?

(The two agents look curiously at each other.)

DALY:  (Hissed) There's something strange going on here, Holmes.

HOLMES: (Whispered) For once I'm inclined to agree with you, Daly.

DALY:  (To Meadows) How are you feeling, sir?

MEADOWS: Fine, fine!

HOLMES: Are you sure, sir? After all, you *did* disappear without
trace for several hours.

MEADOWS: It's like I told that nice lad from security. I just went
for a walk in the sunshine to clear my head.

DALY:  But it's raining out.

MEADOWS: What? No, no it's a lovely day.

(We can see the storm clouds and downpour through the window
behind his back.)

HOLMES: I think you're ill, sir. Will you let me take you down to
one of the medics?

MEADOWS: No need for that! I'm perfectly okay. Why, I think I
might go for a surf after work.

DALY:  That's it!

(He turns to Holmes.)

DALY: I'm taking him down to the lab. This isn't Assistant
Director Meadows! This is an impostor! He's too nice, too
friendly, too *happy*!

HOLMES: I can't believe I'm saying this, but I….. (she chokes a
little on the word) ……agree.

(They each grab an arm and begin to lead Meadows out of the room.
Once they have gone, Hollis steps out from behind the filing
cabinet and pulls out something rather resembling the Star Wars
com-links.)

HOLLIS: They've taken the subject. There should be no reprisals.
Ready to proceed.

(There is a flash of light and Hollis disappears. As the screen
fades, the viewer becomes aware of a circle of lights fading into
the distance.)



{fin}

Augustus 23-08-00