A/N: thought I would have a go at a crossover fic, so please don't kill me if I make any mistakes. I've never written X Files before, so I'm hoping it's alright. Please review and tell me!


Chapter One: Silent Night

Rain drummed on the rooftops, streets and pavements of New York, beating out a steady tattoo. For Jeremy Thomas, it was just another day, just another dreary day. He ducked across the street, avoiding the cars as only a city-dweller can. Feet skidding on the wet pavement, he slipped into an alleyway, an old shortcut that he used almost every night. It was full of rotting cardboard boxes and rusty cans, a large dumpster and a rickety fire escape the only defining features.

Jeremy wasn't paying much attention as he hunched his shoulders against the rain and walked down the alley. He was more concerned about what he was going to do, now that he had lost his house. It wasn't that he didn't have enough money to pay the mortgage, he had more than enough. It was his wife, or rather, ex-wife. That conniving witch had stolen his life from underneath him, taking his children and his home with her after the divorce. What was going to do now?

He stopped, and leant against the wall. Where was he even going? He had no home, no warm living room to return to, no caring wife to greet him at the door. He had nothing to go back to, and yet his feet carried him along the same path that he walked every day, wearing down an invisible groove in the concrete of the pavement.

Like every night, he was returning from the pub, returning from drowning himself in the alcohol and the atmosphere. He could fit in there, which was more than could be said for the rest of his life. Maybe that was the cause for the divorce, his incessant drinking. He wasn't an alcoholic; to say that was to admit defeat. At least that's what Jeremy believed.

A door creaking open brought Jeremy back to the real world, and he turned, curious, as the metal door swung inwards on the other side of the alley, revealing a yawning black pit. Two figures emerged after a couple of seconds, and they were the strangest people he had ever seen.

One was a man, as tall as he was skinny, a brown overcoat hanging limply around his figure. He had crazy brown hair which was slicked to the side, though whether it was a product of hair gel or water, it was hard to say. An inane expression graced his face, but his brown eyes were dark and piercing, even from this distance.

The other person was a woman with startlingly orange hair which hung loose around her shoulders, thick with water. She came across as haughty and in control, but it was hard to tell which of the pair was in charge, the man or the woman.

The man held up some kind of device, a whirring chunk of metal that beeped like submarine's sonar when it was scanned across the alley. "The signal's strong. It must be close by."

"It better be, spaceman. I've had enough of running around these alleys after a shadow, and if we don't find it soon, I might just do something to alter your bodily functions." The woman stuck her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin in a classic defiant pose.

The two spoke with foreign accents, and Jeremy thought they must be British, though he was still woozy with drink and couldn't quite tell. If they were foreigners, he was sure they must have a good reason for hanging around in dark alleyways late at night.

The tall man gave the woman a hurt look. "Aww, there's no need to be like that," he said in a whiny voice, waving his device around for effect, "it won't take us long to find it, I promise. Iā€¦hold on." He focused his attention on the metal device, grin spreading across his face as it began to beep louder. "It's close," he declared, grabbing the woman by the hand. "Come on."

The two dashed off down the alley, quickly disappearing into the gloom. Jeremy shook his head at the strangeness of it all, and prepared to leave, dragging his leaden feet out into the middle of the alleyway. All was as it had been, with no memory of the strange pair's passing. A grimy newspaper rustled across the concrete, but other than that, everything was still and silent, the rain dampening the spirit of the city.

It was then that Jeremy grew uneasy, glancing back over his shoulder, sure someone was watching him. But there was no one there. The alley was empty. The silent nagging was still there though, tugging at the back of his perception, warning him against something unseen. There was something wrong, and his subconscious knew it, his instinct knew it.

Jeremy shivered, feeling cold not from the rain or wind, but from a presence. Now, he wasn't one to get all supernatural, but he was sure there was something else in the alley, something that numbed him to the core. He froze, but not of his own volition; his legs just simply refused to work. He was immobile, helpless, and unable to fight whatever was doing this.

The creature appeared right in front of him, no longer bothering to hide itself now that its prey was captured. It was a dark night, and shadows laced the alleyway, but Jeremy saw enough of the monster to make him scream. That is, if he was able to scream.

One writhing hand reached out, and stroked along his face, cold and clammy like a fish was slapping against his cheek. This time, a whimper escaped from his lips.


The Doctor raced back into the alleyway, holding the madly beeping detector out at arm's length. The frantic pulses from the device could only mean one thing; the alien was close and extremely so. But when he and Donna reached the middle of the alley, the beeping died down, the creature having moved out of range.

"Too late, it's gone," the Doctor muttered, tucking the detector into his voluminous pocket.

Donna kicked at a discarded milk carton. "Well, there goes another night of fruitless running."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, looking down at his feet. That was when he noticed the body. "Oh dear. We really were too late."