::  Tales Of The Resistance  ::

Part  One
Lost?

"Well, it just can’t get any better than this, can it?" Monica Reyes muttered sourly as she looked out over the vast expanse of the national forest's lush green valley.

"What was that, agent?" Skinner growled from three feet away as he gazed north at the next mountaintop.

Before she could deny she had said anything, the third of their little party gasped, "Look!"

Skinner and Reyes turned and carefully made their way over the scattered rocks of the top of this precipice in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Just as Skinner called, "What have you got, Scully?" Reyes miss-stepped on a rock, twisted her ankle, and started to fall backwards over the edge. Arms pin-wheeling in the cold, late autumn air, she saw gray sky and little else until Skinner reached out and yanked her back to safety. Stumbling forward, she found her nose buried in the thick cotton of his sweater, just below his shoulder. "Careful, Reyes." He sighed in her ear.

She wasn’t sure if he was referring to her clumsiness over the rocky surface or to her hand’s proximity to his fly. "Sorry, sir."

She allowed Skinner to gently put her back on her feet. The musky smell of him followed her- she hadn’t needed to be that close to recognize his scent. For two days now, she had been acutely aware of his smell. And, she admitted to herself, she had been aware long before the three of them had become so helplessly – embarrassingly lost.

It was all Mulder’s fault, of course. Reyes considered the man who made her seem like the height of staid Fibbie protocol. He and the Lone Gunmen had found three feasible hiding places of the abductees-turned – turned what? She sighed. The gunmen had taken the site at Hattiesburg, and Mulder and Doggett had gone to Buggs Lake. Later, they planned on swinging by the least likely site of Clews Haven on their way back north.

Great plan. As with many of Mulder’s plans, through no fault of his own, they had been waylaid by an honest-to-god crime and ended up staying down to help the locals clean up.

Scully insisted upon coming out here to check. Monica wasn’t sure why, since the pathologist hadn’t believed the abductees were anywhere near the East Coast. Maybe she was just going stir crazy. Her son, one-year old next month, was already a handful. Already walking at nine months, he had a propensity for getting away from his mother at the park, the store, and the FBI nursery. Mulder thought it hilarious, Scully didn’t. "Damn it, he’s already starting to ditch me."

Scully had asked Maggie Scully to watch her grandson, ‘just for two days at the most, mom.’ That was three days ago. Three days ago when they thought they saw Billy Miles running away from the coordinates that they had been given. Scully had run off and, of course, Skinner had followed her. Reyes had looked around at the darkening forest and followed Skinner. By the time it got too dark to follow the fleeing phantom, they were lucky they had found each other – forget small little hamlet and the G-car they had driven. They spent that first night pacing back and forth, trying to stay warm alone. They spent last night in a small hollowed out space in the side of the hill, Skinner holding them both. It had started to flurry off and on, and even though they had worn warm jackets, it was getting uncomfortably cold. She didn’t want to think about spending another night out here, Skinner furnace or no Skinner furnace.

"What have you got, Scully?" Skinner demanded as they made their way to the south edge of the hilltop.

"I saw light reflected. Can you see through the trees there?" Scully pointed.

To Monica Reyes it was just so much evergreen with a little fall color thrown in. Skinner squatted down and scanned the area. Scully’s hand rested on his shoulder and lowered her head until their cheeks were almost brushing. "See there."

::  ::  ::

Walter Skinner led the way back down the dead end and through the narrow pass between the two hillocks. He couldn’t believe that they were this lost. He couldn’t believe that he had let Scully talk him into coming on this wild goose chase. He was going to kick Mulder’s ass. It was bad enough that the former Marine couldn’t get them to safety. Bad enough that the damn cell phones didn’t seem to work up here. Bad enough that he had felt like some damn unseen force was leading them by the nose, hiding just outside his perception. And... he was stuck between two female agents who intrigued him in very different ways.

Scully. What could he say about Dana Katherine Scully? He wanted her. He always had. But. The reasons why he never did anything about the attraction were myriad. Too numerous to mention except after too many scotches, too late at night.

As for Monica Reyes? He couldn’t explain that either. Was it just that she was there? No. Kim was there. Half the damn support pool was there. He knew all about the whispers and the sighs. He hadn’t made it up the ladder without keeping his ear firmly on water cooler gossip. But he wasn’t one to take it seriously. He doubted that if he asked Straight from accounting or Miller from research or Wahl from the steno pool on a date that they would actually go out with him. He knew damn good and well that he scared them more than he attracted them - particularly after the Krycek incident. Even though nothing had been said after he put that bullet into the traitor’s head, simply because no one knew. Mulder had gotten rid of the body; the stooges had looped the previous evening’s film through the security monitor – kinda scary how easy that had been. No. No one knew except him and what was one more facet of ugliness to his already surly, stony façade.

No. It wasn’t because she was available. Because she wasn’t, anymore than Scully was. They were both under his direct supervision. He sighed and looked up into the darkening sky. Yeah right. With all the rules he had broken, he wasn’t sure that one made a wit of difference to him either.

He led them back into the impossibly thick forest, praying that his instinct would return so he could lead them to safety instead of another dead end. He forced his mind away from his sexual needs and considered just how fucked up this trip had become. After all that time in country, Walter Skinner had developed an almost uncanny ability to find his way in the forest/jungle/northwest D.C. rush hour traffic. But as soon as they entered the little town of Clews Haven he had become inexplicably challenged when it came to finding his way. He was even having trouble telling east from west, the sky overcast as it was. Here, deep in the forest, he felt the tension grip his gut. Maybe Frohike was right. Maybe aliens could control their minds.

He pushed through the last barrier of thicket and heard the sighs of relief from the two women. They had found it. They had found the cabin with the glass that had reflected off the light – light that hadn’t been there. The hairs stood on the back of his neck. "What the fuck is that doing there?"

::  ::  ::

Dana Scully was tired and hungry and scared. In her eight years with the X-Files, she had seen too much to be worried for her own safety. She had long ago made peace with the fact that there was only so much she could do; that powerful forces and powerful men controlled her life when they chose to control it. She fought them for form sake and because Mulder expected it. But, until last year she had little to lose. Now her son depended upon her and she was damned if anyone would take him away. Only they didn’t take him away. She just gave him up. True, it was to her mother, but she still felt like a child abuser.

She fought the urge to run in any direction until she found a way out of this mess, but she knew that is what had gotten them here in the first place. Which was funny when you thought about it, because it was always Mulder who had gone off half-cocked. She had been the stable one of the duo. But as soon as she saw Billy Miles that afternoon staring at her from the edge of town, the urge to chase and catch him was undeniable. By the time Skinner had caught up to her and demanded roughly, "What the hell are you doing?" it had been too late. They had carefully retraced their steps through the afternoon dusk only to find nothing even vaguely familiar. The foliage looked like no one had passed by it in recorded history. Skinner had a dazed and confused look about him that scared her more than actually being lost. When the cell phone didn’t work in the valley, she had been concerned. When it hadn’t worked at the top of the mountain, she felt the terror that ‘they’ were nearby.

Damn, it wasn’t fair. All she wanted was a couple of days away from the anxiety of being mommy to William Scully. God he was a handful. At eleven months, he had already managed to climb out of his crib with the agility of a monkey. ‘Such a cute little boy’ the old ladies in the park would coo. When they heard how old he was they would just shake their heads and sigh. ‘Oh my dear, you are going to have a hard time with that one.’

Walter was the only person outside of her and Maggie who could hold William for more than a few moments without the squirming and wriggling. Maggie watched him like a hawk and Dana knew that she trusted her mother without reservation. But what if ‘they’ came for him. Logic played little in her fear. Logic told her than if ‘they’ hadn’t taken him when he was born, then why would ‘they’ take him now. Damn she shouldn’t have come. Whipping out her cell phone, she tried for a signal again and got nothing. "Shit!" She cried out her frustrations.

But even that wasn’t comforting; the surrounding greenery swallowed the sound.

"What’s wrong, Dana?" He was at her side immediately and she felt the guilt flood through her for scaring him. God, she had lived with the guilt for so long. Guilt for the way he felt about her. Guilt for the way she treated him. She knew that he thought that it was because of Mulder and at one point it might have been, but no longer. Mulder had burned his last bridge. He was consumed with his quest regardless of what he had told her when William was born. Regardless of what she had sacrificed for his quest. He reveled in the guilt he bore; she loathed the feeling.

"I want to get the hell out of here." she ground out.

"Oh. Still no phone signal?"

"No, sir."

"Scully are you okay?" Reyes came running up. She had tried to follow a trail but it was nothing more than a small animal path leading to a thicket. She hoped they wouldn’t have to stay in one tonight. No matter how dense it was, the cold was seeping in.

"I’m fine."

"Come on." Skinner sighed and turned, looked around and was surprised that he knew where he was going.

"Walter," she took hold of his arm. "I’m sorry."

"For what? You’re worried about William. Your mom will take care of him."

"I know. But this is the longest I’ve been away from him. I…miss him."

He reached up and took her hand off his arm and moved it to his hand. "I know you do, Scully."

They walked until it was almost too dark to see. The snow filtered down through the trees and Scully knew it must be a blizzard to reach so deep. It wasn’t right. Maybe she was dreaming. Damn. Skinner let go of her hand and she fell back into step with Reyes. They didn’t talk. Both of them were so hungry, their stomachs rumbled the hours. They had found water, but there wasn’t even a candy bar between the three of them. Dana allowed the sight of Skinner’s leather clad back to lead her on. How many times had she followed him like this?

Scully glanced over at Reyes. Why the hell was she here? Why had she come and changed the delicate balance. Scully saw the way Monica Reyes looked at him, suspected that Reyes knew she knew. What bothered Scully the most though was the way Reyes looked at her.

In college, Dana had experimented like a lot of girls did. She enjoyed sex with women who knew better than crass college jocks how to touch just right. But in the end, her good Catholic upbringing had shadowed the hint of forbidden pleasure. To an outsider, her disastrous, albeit minuscule track record with men would make it seem logical for her to seek out comfort with another woman. Yeah but, that still left Skinner. Skinner her boss, her enemy, she thought for years, her friend and protector now. The very thought of him could crowd everything else from her mind. She knew instinctively that one word, the right glance, the slightest touch would make him hers. The making though would destroy her. He would consume her very being. He was too strong, too male. Unlike Mulder the Scarred or Doggett the Dogged, Skinner the Protector would end up smothering her passion for him.

And she couldn’t let that happen because she knew he would be needed, probably sacrificed in the coming battle. The battle that would redefine the very ground they were walking on. Fear for her son began to well in her again when Skinner stepped out into the clearing.

::  ::  ::

The house loomed black in the falling snow. The ground was covered and the wind blew like it was February. Grabbing both women under his strong arms, Skinner practically carried them both to the small entryway at the side. There was no light and the darkness was almost complete. He couldn’t spare the time to ponder why he unerringly found the door. Pushing them into a corner he thought for a moment to break the door in, but held back and searched in all the typical places where a spare key would be hidden.

"Here, sir." Monica Reyes shoved a smooth round object into his hand. He felt rather than saw the seam and carefully exposed the hidden key.

Just stepping out of the wind and the cold made them feel warmer immediately. Scully found the switch and lights reflected black off the floor-to-ceiling windows. Three tired and disheveled travelers stared back at them.

The room before them was empty except for a round dinning table with four cheap wooden chairs and a small settee. The walls and floor were knotty pine. A huge stone fireplace, complete with a well holding a full quarter cord of wood, filled one wall.

Skinner quickly scanned every inch of the room, noting the two doorways leading to the back of the house. Then his eyes took in more minute details, like the cobwebs in the corners and the dirty tracks left by Reyes shoes as she walked toward the fireplace. But it was Scully’s trance-like stare that finally held his attention.

"Dana." He tiredly warned. "It can’t be hooked…" He didn’t finish because he knew she would have to try.

Gingerly, as if it might dissolve at her touch, she lifted the receiver from the stark white wall-mounted phone.

The dial tone seemed to fill the cabin. Staring at it for just a moment, she shook herself and quickly punched in a number. "Mom!"…. We’re fine…we just got lost. How’s…. Mulder? What are you doing there? I thought…."

Skinner and Reyes came to stand next to her.

"What do you mean they didn’t need you guys?" Scully’s voice wavered between frustration, relief and anger. Firmly, Skinner put his hand over hers and brought the receiver to his ear. Scully eyes widened, but she didn’t pull back from his touch.

"Mulder!" He barked. "Mulder shut up and listen to me. Trace this call." Reyes and Scully shared a bemused glance at Skinner’s sigh. "If I knew, Mulder, I wouldn’t have you trace it. Yeah, Mulder you do that. Give Maggie the phone while you’re doing it."

"Mom?" Dana breathlessly asked, "How is he? … Oh, yeah?"

The look of disappointment told Reyes that everything was okay and that young William Scully had done just fine without his mother for the past three days. Turning away, she kneeled before the fireplace.

While Scully held the line open and Reyes built a fire, Skinner entered the first doorway. A bright country kitchen greeted him. The refrigerator hummed and he discovered various condiments, a carton containing 4 eggs, a stick of butter and a box of pancake mix inside a freezer bag. The freezer yielded several bundles wrapped in white butcher paper, dinner rolls, a half loaf of bread and a pint of Cherry Garcia. Grinning broadly, he pulled out a package marked ‘filets’ and tossed them by the microwave. By the time he heard Scully call, "Walter, they know where we are," he had found the small supply of liquor.

His elation at the meal he was planning was tempered by the anxious look on Scully’s face. "What now?" She handed him the phone without speaking. "What?" he snarled.

"Sir…we know where you are and we are on our way to pick you up." He didn’t say more and Skinner began to feel Scully’s anxiety.

"Well, where the hell are we?" he sighed.

"Oh, about ten miles from where you started out in Hattiesburg, sir. We’ll be there by morning." Before Skinner could correct him, the phone clicked.

Hanging it back up, his good mood had all but evaporated. "Son of a bitch! Everything has to be a game with him? Unless it’s not and there is something really wrong. And how the hell am I supposed to tell?" Looking at Scully, he demanded sourly, "Did he say anything to you?"

Scully shook her head. "No. He asked me to get you. Where are we?"

"How would I know? According to Mulder, we're ten miles from where we started out from … in Hattiesburg!"

"What?" Reyes exclaimed. "But we weren’t … oh…" She thought for a moment. "So is he telling us we are ten miles from Clews Haven…or…" Sighing, she ran her hands over her face. She had been around Mulder long enough to know it meant nothing until he explained it and even then, it might not make sense. "I’ve got a fire started," she finished lamely. "Not that we really need it. I think the house is thermal heated." She crouched down and felt the floor to prove the point.

Skinner shook his head as if he were trying to clear his own cobwebs away. "Well we'll eat. It looks like the owners stocked up at the beginning of the season. The meat is marked July 3^rd. I don’t see anything older than that."

"I used a paper dated July 5^th to start the fire, sir." Reyes supplied.

Skinner shrugged. "Well I hope you like steak and vegetables." He grinned at the hungry glance that past between the two women. "Look, I’ll deal with that. You two go check the rest of the house. Use the facilities…" He blushed.

Reyes cocked an eyebrow and smirked at Scully. "Why, sir. You sayin’ we stink?"

Scully snorted. And Skinner, for some reason, felt his earlier good mood return. Putting his hands on his hips and in his best AD mode, he huffed. "I’m sayin’ that once you do whatever it is you need to do, Agent, you can come out here and finish, while I go do whatever it is I need to do." He started to turn away, but paused. "And... if in your thorough investigation of the scene, you happen to find something that I might wear – without reducing the two of you into hysterical giggles, then I just might share the bottle of Jack Daniels I discovered." With that, he stalked into the kitchen and began to slam cabinets and rattle pots and pans.

Reyes looked at Scully wide-eyed. "He was joking. The man was joking with us. I don’t believe it." She smiled at the small redhead.

Scully returned the smile and stretched her neck. Mulder promised he would come and get them and hopefully, by tomorrow night her son would be in her arms again. She could relax. "He’s been known to smile once or twice."

"No!"

"Oh yeah. Come on, Reyes. Let’s go check out the – facilities." She led the way through the other doorway and they found themselves in a long hallway. Just to the right was a bathroom with sink, toilet and shower stall. A cabinet behind the door revealed large plush towels, a five-pack of unopened toothbrushes, extra soap, bandages and generally, exactly what you would expect to find in a bathroom. The next door opened onto a bedroom as austerely furnished as the front room. A queen-size bed covered in a thin counterpane sat centered against the far wall. A long low dresser filled another wall and a very tall, narrow ‘lingerie’ chest sat against the other. A door leading to a small closet was just behind the hallway door. They looked at each other and began their search for clean clothes.

By the time they were done, they studied the clothes they laid out on the bed. "Well," Reyes shrugged, "I guess they don’t use this place much in the winter, huh?"

"Oh I don’t know. The sweat pants should fit him okay, I guess. The boxers?" Scully blushed furiously. "I really have no idea."

"Yeah, but that tee shirt." Reyes snickered. "Look. You go ahead. I’ll check the rest of the house."

"No, come on. We’ll do it together." Scully led the way out and down the hall. They came to a solid door with a deadbolt lock. "This must be the back door." Quickly, she threw the lock and swung it open, reaching for the light switch as she did. "Oh my."

"Damn!" Reyes whispered. Gently, she nudged Scully forward into the glass-enclosed room. "Oh shit. Would you look over there!" Scully tore her eyes away from the large hot tub and looked to where Reyes was pointing.

"A greenhouse!" They walked amongst the rows upon rows of pots. Most of which were empty or contained dead plants. "Curiouser and couriouser." Scully sighed. "I wonder why they never came back."

"Beats me, but I’m glad we found it. Man, this beats huddling in a cave again tonight."

"Damn straight." Scully scratched her head. "I gotta get in the shower."

Dana quickly stripped and stepped under the hot pelting spray. "Oh man, this is great." she called out. "You can come in and brush your teeth or whatever, Reyes."

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" Her voice sounded from the other side of the glass door.

"Sure." Scully soaked her hair and squeezed a glob of expensive shampoo into her hand.

"I don’t get this thing with you and Mulder, but I respect it. But, would you mind calling me Monica or Mon?" The voice was somewhat wistful. "I mean you’ve called Skinner, Walter a couple of times."

Scully didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t started her career out to be so formal and cold. Mulder, once again, had dictated the formality. It had become almost an obsession with him. It had been easy to hold off Doggett by addressing him as Agent Doggett instead of John, though she suspected that he would have accepted and appreciated being called by his first name. She had heard Skinner call him that. As for calling Skinner Walter? Well, after all they had been through, she had come to feel closer to him than most people. In these last few months as Mulder had become more and more withdrawn and obsessed with ‘the search,’ so obsessed that he seldom called her anymore except on cases or the occasional Saturday night when the Gunmen were out of town on a case. He held William, cooed to him but only when he was presented with the boy. She was beginning to think that he resented the baby, resented the fact that he wasn’t the father. Not wanting to consider that again, she pushed back the door and poked her head around to look at Reyes. "Sure. I could do that, Mon." She paused. "I’m not sure if I will remember to respond to it, but you should probably call me Dana."

Brown eyes met blue and suddenly both women blushed bright red. Monica turned to face the sink and Dana closed the shower door a little too hard.

Staring at the dirt smudged face before her, Monica sighed. She had taken her pleasures with both men and women. The years in New Orleans had inured her to anything that could be considered kinky. And while she had always known she would go to Skinner’s bed at the slightest invitation, she found herself attracted to the petite woman on the other side of the glass.

"Uhm…could you hand me that towel?" Scully whispered.

Picking up the huge bath sheet, Monica shook it and held it out. Dana left the water running. "Go ahead. Get in before we run out of hot water. Skinner will have a cow, but hey. He’s a former Marine."

Reyes licked her lips but quickly shed the rank sweater and jeans she had worn for three days and nights. Bra and panties followed but she didn’t look to see if Scully was watching. She waited until she closed the clear-glass door and saw blue eyes staring back in the mirror that was almost, but not quite fogged over. Quickly she showered and washed her hair. She wasn’t sure what was happening. She had always felt protective of Agent Scully, ever since Doggett had shoved Dana into her car that night. She supposed the bond was strong because she had helped deliver William. She would have killed anyone that had tried to take the baby from them, even though she wasn’t sure Scully believed it then or now. They weren’t buddies. They weren’t girlfriends. They occasionally talked of the baby’s progress, but mostly they planned. Planned on what they were going to do when the aliens attacked. Though most of the time, she thought it was more likely ‘if they attacked.’ Scully had conceded the point. Mulder would not. The only thing that had really surprised her was that Doggett followed the ex-agent wherever it was the ‘freelance investigator’ led him. Skinner just seemed to watch and wait.

"Damn, when did things get so fucking weird?" She peered out into the bathroom, not really surprised to find it empty. Stepping out into the hallway, the large towel wrapped tightly around her slim body, Monica met Scully leaving the bedroom dressed in satin pants and a long sleeved tee shirt. "You want to tell Skinner he’s welcome to it, Dana? I’ll be out to help in a couple of minutes."

Scully wouldn’t meet her gaze, but nodded. "No rush, you started the fire, I can handle it."

Monica pulled on the jeans and man’s shirt she had picked out from the odd assortment of clothes they had found. Trying to picture the owners of their sanctuary was difficult, but tall and skinny seemed to fit the best. The loose pair of ‘sleep’ pants Scully had settled on had to be rolled up several times before she could safely walk in them. The shirt had been the man’s and even then, the busty agent had ballooned the material. Both of them had just sighed when they found the small collection of bras. "Who the hell wears a 30 A?" she had asked Dana plaintively. Oh well, Skinner was going to get an eyeful tonight. Of course, so were they.

She examined the black ‘Salem Corner’s Office – Stop by for a Cold One’ tee shirt Dana had found at the bottom of a stack of size 34 undershirts. It was the only thing they found larger than a ‘medium.’ The extra-large souvenir looked like it had never been worn and she wondered briefly on whom it had been intended. Certainly, no one like Skinner. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the cheap material stretched over the broad shoulders. Sitting down on the bed to pull the heavy white athletic socks on, she finally considered the most pressing question. Would they all sleep in the bed tonight? Remembering how it had felt to sleep against his chest last night brought images too dangerous to contemplate. Trying to think of the 302 she would have to fill out for the St. Louis trip didn’t help because she suddenly envisioned Skinner sitting at his desk, not in the gray suit she liked, but the too tight black tee shirt. "Shit! I really need to get laid." She muttered at she straightened; only to find herself staring into shocked coffee colored eyes. As she felt the blood drain from her face, a vague image of an OPR board flashed before her until she considered that while the remark was embarrassing, he couldn’t prove it had been directed toward him. And, the towel draped around his waist was snug enough that she could see he agreed with her.

Summoning as much dignity as she could, Monica walked to the doorway never breaking eye contact. "Excuse me, sir. I’ll just go help Agent Scully finish dinner."

Quickly he stepped aside, clutching the towel with every ounce of strength he possessed. He never uttered a word though his eyes followed her all the way down the hallway. Once she entered the front room, he turned and firmly closed the door. Stalking over to the bed he found what they had laid out and swallowed his groan. The underwear would never fit. The sweatpants would be very snug and the tee shirt! Cursing continuously, he opened every drawer and pulled out every article of clothing. Scanning the room again, he spotted the closet, and now reduced to silent fervent prayer, quickly made his way to it. Several shirts and a sundress stared back at him. "Fuck!"

He was just closing the door when he noticed the slight breeze caressing his naked form. Peering into the blackness he reached out and touched the back of the wall. By rights this should be the wall between the bedroom and the bath. The bath after three hot showers of varying duration had been steamy warm when he left it. The floor, even in the closet attested to the water tubes embedded in the floor below that carried water up from deep in the ground. Carefully he tapped and heard nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing he knew he would have to investigate further, but his manhood was protesting the exposure and his stomach was protesting the lack of anything for 48 hours. He pulled on the sweatpants. He could feel the seams pull on the tee shirt as he carefully pulled it over his head. At least the socks fit.

By the time he made it back to the living area they had set the table. Three plates with steak, green beans and mashed potatoes. Three glasses filled with ice and half-full of amber liquid and three glasses filled with ice and water flanked each plate. Scully was standing by the table, her teeth worrying her upper lip. Reyes stood at the window staring out into the blackness, her pale white face reflected back in the glass. "Well, we all look just elegant don’t we?" Skinner tried.

"It’s better than what we had on, sir." Scully whispered. His attempt at humor fallen flat, Skinner shrugged and pulled out one of the chairs.

"Ladies?"

They joined him at the table and silently, began to eat. Skinner was perfectly aware of the tension in the room. Hell, he had been aware of the tension since yesterday when it was apparent that they were going to have to spend another night in the woods, together. He had been the one to insist that they ‘share’ body heat and he had held them under his jacket for the entire night. He hadn’t been surprised when the gray dawn woke him. While he had tried hard to stay awake, the exertion had been too much. What little sleep they had was completely negated by the hiking they had done today. Trying to fill some of the silence, he asked gently. "Did it look like it was letting up at all, Reyes?"

The sound of his voice caught her off guard and she nearly choked on a piece of steak. After taking a drink of water she managed to gasp out. "I couldn’t tell, sir. It’s too dark out there."

What else was there to say? "I hope that wherever we are, Mulder finds the car and the suitcases. I really don’t want to be seen in public like this." he avowed firmly.

Scully and Reyes looked at the way the tee shirt accentuated the muscles in his shoulders. The way his biceps seemed to ripple as he carefully chewed each bite. Simultaneously, they both reached for their glasses of Jack Daniels. Their eyes met over the rim and they almost gasped at the passion they saw mirrored in each other’s face. Carefully gulping down most of her drink, Scully set the glass down. "Sir, would you like the rest of my steak?"

"Scully! Eat your food, you haven’t had anything in…."

Her sigh silenced him. "Skinner, I haven’t had red meat in over a year. Really, this is more than enough for me. I’ll fill up on the mashed potatoes and green beans." Before he could protest further, she pushed over half her small steak onto his plate.

Reyes looked from one to the other and took a bite of the mashed potatoes. "Hey, for instant, these are bad."

"They’re not instant. They’re frozen mashed potatoes. I found them in the back of the freezer." Dana softly corrected her.

That seemed to lead to a safe subject and they managed to fill the rest of the meal with stories of the oddest food items they had found, which led to their oddest and then favorite meal. By the time Monica had finished her story of the Voodoo queen’s gris-gris shop and po' boy stand, they each had another drink and were gently relaxed. Together, they cleared the table and Scully insisted that they wash the dishes. "This way we can leave tomorrow morning without any delay."

Skinner and Reyes exchanged glances. Yes, it was dark outside the window but from what they had both seen, the snow as piling up. "Sure, Dana." Monica grabbed a towel. "You wash, I’ll dry."

"While you're doing that, I’m going to check the back of the house." There was a door to the back of the kitchen and grabbing his leather jacket from the hook there, he opened the door and was surprised to find another hallway, rougher and obviously unheated. There was a cabinet against one wall. It yielded a long flashlight, a barn coat that might fit Reyes and a pair of heavy rubber boots that fit – he wouldn’t want to walk down the hill in them – but they fit. "Hey, Reyes!"

She came to the door and smiled at what he was pointing to. "I’ll get all our clothes together, sir. It will be nice to have our own clothes clean." The washer and dryer combination led to a long narrow bench. Obviously, this was a mudroom, but the outer door was still not in sight. He came to a cross passage and looked to his left and then his right.

"What the fuck?" He breathed to himself. He opened the only door – to the left of the passage and found himself in a closet, the bedroom closet. Turning around he went to the other end of the hall and felt along the wall. It was warmer here, supposedly away from the house, than it was along the passageway. He was shining the light up and down the wall trying to find a catch or lever or something when the hall was suddenly flooded with light. "Hey?"

Reyes’ voice floated down from what seemed a mile away. "Found the switch - it was behind the fridge in the kitchen."

The light from the bare bulb behind him cast odd shadows on the wall. "Reyes," he sighed, "what do you need?" When the tall thin shadow next to him didn’t answer he spun around only to find no one behind him. Turning again he saw only one silhouette against the wall. "Get a grip, Walt old boy." Taking the flashlight he tapped along the wall but could find no change in resonance. A wave of aching tiredness washed over him and he shook his head and turned around. "Fuck it. I’ll check tomorrow."

"Check what tomorrow, sir?" He jumped at the sound of her voice and this time turned to find the raven-haired agent standing at the juncture of the two hallways. She was looking at him funny and the wave of lust that had washed over him in the bedroom returned full force. The pants he had on were tight enough without dealing with this problem.

"Let’s got back, Reyes. Just another mystery in this weekend of mysteries." She was looking at him funny and he knew she could see the evidence of his arousal. Her tongue darted out and flicked her upper lip.

"Yes, sir," she whispered huskily. Turning, she hurried back down the hallway and Skinner was forced to look at her very nicely rounded bottom all the way back to the kitchen.

Scully was bending from the waist, returning the broiler pan to the stove when he stepped into the kitchen and he half-stifled his groan at the sight of her ass bobbing before him. Reyes was standing in the doorway. Both women heard the sound. Three pairs of eyes darted back and forth from one another and all three were having difficulty breathing normally.

"Uhm…" Skinner managed.

Monica tried to lighten the mood. "Anyone for a game?" At the pair of shocked expressions, her blush tinged her ears a bright red. "Monopoly! Life? Yahtzee? The cabinet next to the washing machine. Box games. Lots and lots of BOX games." She stammered to explain.

Taking a deep breath, Skinner just shook his head. "No. You two take the bed. I’ll sleep on the divan out here."

Scully’s snort filled the silence. "Yeah, right. I wouldn’t be comfortable on that damn thing. What the hell were these people thinking when they furnished this place?" She looked from one to the other and tried to tell herself that she wasn’t feeling the sexual tension, but even she couldn’t deny it. "Look, we’re professionals, right? We’ll share the bed just like we shared the dame hole in the hill. But we need the sleep, because God only knows how close they're going to be able to get to us tomorrow and we may have to hike some more." Her voice dropped to an accusatory mutter. "Hopefully without getting lost this time."

Reyes nodded. "Da--Agent Scully’s right, sir." She looked at the back hallway. You guys go get…uhm…you can… I want to get the clothes in the dryer. I separated out the heavy stuff from the lighter weight…and…well…" she shrugged and Skinner wondered if the red would ever leave her ears.

Shaking his head, he ordered. "No, you two go ahead. I want to check outside anyway." He glared at Reyes. "I do know how to do laundry, agent. Now scoot, that’s an order."

Reyes cocked an eyebrow at Scully. Scully just shook her head throwing the ball back at Reyes. "Very well, AD Skinner." Monica replied with as much force as she could manage. Not waiting for an answer, or for Scully, she left them together.

Shrugging and without saying anything, Scully straightened and left him standing there.

He pushed out into the cold, snow-filled night. The lights from the front room barely penetrated the darkness. But he could see the solid wall of white coming out of the blackness. It was eerie. Hell, it would have been scary in February. It didn’t snow like this in Virginia. He couldn’t remember a snowstorm like this ever. The temperature had to be in the mid-thirties; the wind had died to nothing. He wanted to walk the perimeter, but the snow was already too deep. "Damn, they’re going to have a field day with this on the Weather Channel." He walked out as far as he could but couldn't see anything. Sighing, he turned around and considered the night ahead. He could do this. He would do this. Do what? The snow seemed to have seeped into his mind. He felt woolly headed and suddenly, the only thing he could focus on were the two women in the one and only bed in the house.

Entering the front room, he glared at the small settee. Scully and Reyes might be able to sit on it together, if they were being very chummy. "God, don’t do this to yourself." He cursed under his breath. Stomping into the kitchen, he hung the coat up, toed off the boots and entered the hallway. Pulling the assortment of jeans, heavy cotton slacks and cotton sweaters from the washer, he slammed them into the dryer. Picking up the rest of the clothes, mostly undergarments and Scully’s long-sleeved Henley, he quickly completed that chore. Turning off the lights he entered the kitchen, closed the door to the back entrance and stomped back out into the front room. As he checked the locks again, he stared at the settee. One part of his mind was screaming for him to figure a way to drape 6’2" of body onto the three feet of surface. After banking the fire, he finally trudged slowly down the hallway to the bath and then onto the bedroom.

The hallway fixture suffused enough light for him to see them on the bed. A queen-size bed wasn’t big enough for three people. Hell, a king-size bed wouldn’t have allowed them enough room to sleep without touching each other. The two of them were lying as rigid as Victorian brides, side-by-side, trying at once to give him as much room as possible on one side of the bed and to still not touch each other.

They felt it too, he was sure of it. The feeling was almost unnatural, as much as he was attracted to both of them, he should be able to deal with the situation but this – this was too strong. Grimly, he went to his allotted side of the bed, sat, put his head on the pillow and faced away from them both. "Goodnight, Agents. I hope I don’t keep you awake with my snoring."

Reyes on the outside took her cue from Skinner and rolled away from Scully to face the blank pine wall. Scully, sandwiched between them, scooted over just a bit and remained on her back staring up at the pine ceiling. She was thankful the light from the hall was far enough away from the door that it didn’t shine in her eyes. She doubted if she would ever get to sleep.

::  ::  ::

Scully wasn’t sure what woke her. It was still dark in the one window in the room. She was warm and felt very safe. Something that she seldom felt, even in her own home. It took her a moment to realize that she had turned over onto her side and so had he. She could barely make out his face in the shadowed light, but she could tell his eyes were open - open and staring into hers. He had such dark eyes, so very troubled, so very scared. Somehow that made it easier. Gently, she smiled at him and gently he reached up and traced her jaw with his finger. The touch burned and as he trailed it down her graceful neck, it made all the sense in the world to arch toward him and claim his lips with her own.

It was everything he had imagined all those months after the kiss in the elevator. Her tongue searched for his and he pulled her tight against him. Years later, he would remember feeling the bed creak and jerking back from her to see the hurt and lust in Monica’s eyes. As she started to stumble out from under the covers to leave the bed, his hand caught hers. Eyes met and decisions were made. After that, it was a blur of mouths, tongues, lips, breasts and loins. He lost track of whose lips surrounded him or whose tight passage he plunged into. Images burned themselves into his memory and were promptly lost in the haze. He came so often, his head began to pound from the pleasure and pain of it. He wasn’t even sure when they collapsed into a heap in the middle of the bed - the tangle of limbs a parody of every smoker he had watched at every bachelor party he attended.

::  ::  ::

Someone on the bed was moving and Monica opened one eye. Scully was inching out from under Skinner’s grasp and carefully moving toward the end of the bed. "Wha.?" She muttered before rolling back over and letting sleep try to take her. She was almost there when she realized what she had seen on Scully’s face. Disgust, loathing and shame. "Fuck." She whispered and stared to get up. Skinner reached out in his sleep and caught her around the waist and pulled her tighter against him. She lay there pondering the consequences of last night, trying to make some sense of it, but she couldn’t and she really didn’t want to. It had felt incredible. Beyond incredible, it had been impossible. That thought hit her hard, bringing her to full consciousness. God, she was tender. She wasn’t sure how many times he had come in her, but each time had been greeted with a mind-blowing orgasm. She rolled over on her back and could see sleep-reposed face. Who would have thought, that at his age, he could do that – that often! He couldn’t, of course, but he had. She heard the bathroom door open and close again and sighed. Her bladder was fully awake and gingerly, she eased away from him. He groaned at the sudden absence of her warmth and she pulled the thin blanket over him. They hadn’t needed it last night.

She found the towel she had used last night and started to cover herself but after last night, why? Hopefully, some of their clothes would be dry and she trudged into the hallway. She paused at the entrance to the main room and swore softly. "Son-of-bitch! It’s still coming down!" She heard no reply so she turned into the bathroom. The water was still hot in the shower and she tried to attain some sense of proportion. She wondered what Scully would be like this morning. If the look had been any indication, she would be tight-lip and cold. Not at all like the woman who had explored Monica’s body while Skinner had rested up for more. Turning off the hot water to let the cold rinse all the images away, she viciously cleaned herself, rubbing the washcloth over every inch of her body. Finally, she turned off the water. Opening the door she found her jeans and sweater hanging form the door. She would add the underwear latter. She stared into the mirror and saw the puffiness under the eyes, the bruised well-kissed lips, and sighed. It had been heavenly, but nothing in life was free and now was the time to go face the Ice Queen.

She was surprised to hear low rumbling voices as she entered the living room and realized that Skinner must have by-passed the bathroom momentarily. She paused and listened. She could just make out the frustration in his tone. "Dana, for God’s sake!"

She had no trouble hearing Scully’s retort. "God had nothing to do with it, Skinner." The sigh floated out and caressed Reyes. Not wanting any part of this conversation right now, she went to rebuild the fire, letting her eyes probe the whiteness before her. "Look. Just don’t. It didn’t mean anything."

"Is that a fact, Dana?" The anger and hurt were evident.

"Well what could it have meant. We gave into our fears and exhaustion and yes, the attraction. But what the hell does it mean? What are we going to do now? Huh?" Monica could almost feel the finger jab his chest. "Go back to D.C. and find a cozy little cottage. Should we all move in together? What about William? Damn it, you just don’t understand. This never happened. It was a dream as far as I’m concerned." The coldness in her voice couldn’t completely hide Scully’s own pain.

"Fine!" He stalked out and completely ignoring Monica, went to the bathroom. The slamming of the door echoed throughout the small cabin.

Taking a deep breath, Reyes entered the kitchen. Scully was standing watching coffee drip through to the glass carafe of the Mr. Coffee. "You really can be a bitch, you know that, Dana Scully?" She kept her voice as modulated as she could, but Reyes was shaking with anger.

"Stay out of it, Reyes."

"Kinda of hard after last night, wouldn’t you say?"

"No. I wouldn’t." Still, she wouldn’t turn around.

"So. I’m to assume that it’s all my fault. That if it had been just him and you last night, everything would have been okay? Or wait, that’s right, I forgot. We kidnapped you and tied you down and did all those things to you. That wasn’t your mouth on my tits last night?"

"What the hell do you want from me, Reyes?" The weariness lowered her voice to an almost sexy timbre.

"How about you just cut him some slack? That’s all I want. ‘Kay." With that she left the kitchen, craving coffee and a cigarette almost as much as she still craved him. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened last night and why it felt so different this morning, but she was still too tired to analyze it. She prayed fervently that Mulder and Doggett would get here soon.

Plopping down on the settee she tried to get comfortable, but even just sitting on the hard surface was impossible. She couldn't help wondering if it was because of the construction or her tenderness. Standing and stretching, she wanted to get the hell out of the cabin. Remembering the boots that Skinner had worn, she looked around for them and found them in the kitchen. Scully was pouring a cup when she entered. Ignoring the still angry agent, Reyes grabbed the boots and stalked back out.

She had just put on her coat when he returned. Evidently, Scully had put his jeans and sweater in the bedroom. "Where are you going, Ag…Monica?" he asked softly.

Smiling at him, she jerked her head toward the snow. "I gotta get some fresh air." She reached behind her and opened the door. Shock contorted Skinner’s face so she turned, gasped and fell back. "Who the fuck are you!"

The tall, gray-haired man smiled faintly. "Mr. Skinner and Miss Scully knows me as Jeremiah Smith.

::  Part 2  ::

Explanations?

Scully came out of the kitchen at the sound of Reyes’ shocked "Who the hell are you?" Staring at the… man?… who had tried to help her and Mulder, fear replaced all other emotions and she came into the living room to flank Reyes as Skinner came up and stood next to her.

Standing there in the doorway, Smith seemed very ill. His skin was alien gray and he looked longingly just behind them. "Let him in, Reyes." Scully touched the other woman’s shoulder. "It’s okay. I trust him, I think."

"You think?" Reyes was surprised at the sudden change in Scully’s demeanor and not inclined to just step away.

"Let him in, Monica." Skinner sighed. "Maybe we can get some answers to what has been happening the last couple of days."

Monica stepped away both from the door as well as Scully who was standing next to Skinner. Smith walked into the room and went straight for the fireplace. He flung off his parka and stretched his hands out before the fire. "Please, may I have some hot water?"

"How long have you been out there?" Skinner demanded as Scully turned toward the kitchen.

The words came out faint and tired. "You mean outside in the snow. Maybe five minutes. But that’s too much for me, for my kind."

"Your kind?" Monica stepped to his other side while Skinner stood directly behind him.

Scully rushed up and handed him the glass. "Careful, I just took it off the stove. I was going to make tea."

"Thank you, Dana." He drank the still bubbling liquid down as if it were a cold beer. Shuddering, he turned his backside to the roaring fire. He gazed at Skinner and then continued. "To answer the rest of your question, I’ve been nearby since you left Washington for Clews Haven. We weren’t sure if we could actually lure you here without more overt means. I’m pleased that the plan worked perfectly."

Skinner’s heavy hand on her shoulder was the only thing that thwarted Scully’s attack of the man. Stepping around her, his low deadly tone showed them all just how dangerous a man he could be. "And you are here now to explain everything." It wasn’t a question.

Smith nodded wearily. "Yes, Mr. Skinner, Miss Scully and," turning around to face Monica, he nodded gallantly. "Miss Reyes. If you would care to sit around the table, perhaps have your breakfast, I will explain as much as I can."

Skinner stepped up and looked deep into the alien’s eyes. "You will explain everything, Mr. Smith." The threat was implicit.

Scully sat at the table but Monica glared at her, then retreated to the kitchen, and finally, returned with two steaming mugs of coffee. She placed one in front of Skinner and one in front of her place. Starting to sit, she sighed and gritted out, "Would you like something, Agent Scully?"

"No." Dana’s tone was spent. "No thank you."

"You, Mr. Smith? You want some more boiling water?"

Smith’s smile barely registered on his lips. "No I can drink coffee, that’s fine."

"Fine." Monica returned to the kitchen and shortly, was back with two more cups. Setting one down in front of Smith, she took a deep breath and set the other one down in front of Scully, who stared at it for a moment before cupping both hands around it.

Skinner brought the mug to his lips but never took his eyes off the alien. "So, this was all your doing?" He demanded as he set the mug back down.

Smith looked carefully at each person and then stretched his hand to touch Dana on the arm. She jerked at his touch, and her eyes grew large. He sighed. "I see that you are suffering from guilt about last night."

Skinner stood up so fast the chair fell back and skidded across the floor. "You son-of-a-bitch!" He lunged toward Smith but found he could only move so far.

Smith sighed deeply. "Sit down, Mr. Skinner." Returning his attention to Dana and Monica, he continued. "Are you feeling guilty?"

Scully couldn’t look at any of them. "You did that? You made us…made us…" She couldn’t continue.

Smith shook his head and leaned back in the chair. "Made you? No. I didn’t even suggest it and you know that Dana. All I did was…" He looked up at Skinner who had made no move to right his chair, but stood there glaring down at Smith in impotent anger. "All I did was cloud your reservations. There’s not much time and I thought it was important that you realized your needs, before…"

"Before what?" Monica spat out. She wasn’t happy at all to hear that last night was a sham. It had meant something special to her even if Scully wanted to deny everything this morning, even if Skinner never looked at her again.

"Before they start arriving of course. You will all be very busy in the coming months. You will need each other to survive. You, Miss Reyes, are already bound to the boy and to Miss Scully, as is Mr. Skinner. But Dana, you must also accept the fact that you are bound to these two. You three will form the core of the resistance. You will be its organizers."

Three pairs of eyes stared at the alien healer. Skinner thought that his knees would buckle and suddenly, Smith stood up and before they realized it, the chair was against Skinner’s knees and he sat down heavily. "You’re insane."

"What about Mulder? I have to get to William!" Scully started to stand, but Smith was behind her, holding her gently by the shoulders.

"They will be here soon, Dana. Your mother and William are being led up the hill by the three men you call the Lone Gunmen."

"What about Mulder and Doggett?" Skinner growled. It was happening too fast and he didn’t trust the circumstances.

"They will come later. With others." Patting Dana gently, he returned to his seat. "But we don’t have much time. Ask your questions."

The three humans exchanged glances. Scully and Skinner were having trouble breathing. It was really happening and no matter what they had spoke of, what they had planned, suddenly it didn’t matter. Once again, they were being controlled by outside forces they couldn’t really fight. Monica asked quietly. "Why?"

"Why, Miss Reyes? Why what?"

"Why are you doing this, damn it? Why are you…" Words failed her and she buried her head in her hands. She had never really believed it. She wasn’t sure she would have believed it now if it hadn’t been for Skinner and Scully’s looks.

Smith sat back in his chair and considered them all. Sighing, he picked up the cup and sipped the beverage that he had come to crave. He had never craved ‘food’ before, the small nutrient pellets that he lived on was nourishment only. "Why did my race come here? Because it is our right." He held up his hand to still any outburst. "You must understand. My race is ancient. We have been in the stars so long; we no longer even know our home world. We have only one purpose for our existence – to populate more worlds. We have it down to science. We enter a quadrant of space and ‘stake our claim’ as it were."

"The black oil?" Scully whispered.

"That which you call the black oil, carries what you call our DNA in its most primitive state. Once the ‘oil’ has been deposited on a series of planets, then our scientists analyze the feasibility of further colonization."

"You’re like dogs, marking your goddamn territory." Skinner snarled. The hands fisted on the table in front of him were white. Almost without thinking Scully gripped one hand and Monica the other. He looked at neither of them, but loosened his grip enough so that he could take both hands in his. Even at Smith’s brief, almost triumphant smile, he didn’t release them.

"I suppose that’s as good an analogy as any, Mr. Skinner. The other dogs as you call them are supposed to stay away. They didn’t this time."

Scully spoke quietly. "From what Mulder found out, you have been here for over 10,000 years. What the hell took you so long?"

Smith shook his head dismissively. "What is 10,000 years to us?"

"Enough damn time for US to form and take over the damn planet. You snooze, you lose, asshole!" Monica tried to get up, but Skinner’s hand on hers kept her sitting.

"Ah yes. There in lies the problem, Miss Reyes. We have never been faced with this problem. We aren’t really even sure what race tried to stake its claim after ours. If they're around, they aren’t making themselves known as far as we know. And, of course, to ward off any arguments along the lines of your race rising from the primordial muck, as it were, forget it. Your kind advanced too quickly for evolution. There is more of Adam and Eve than Darwin here."

"Jesus Christ!" Skinner muttered. "So why are you here, Smith? From everything we’ve seen, you're fighting against the invasion. Why?"

Smith folded his arms across his chest. "You tell me something, Skinner. How do you see us? Do you think we are like the ‘Borg’ on that television show?"

"Well?" The snarl gave nothing away.

"We are a proud race, Skinner. Make no mistake, but we are all individuals. Individuals with powers and skills you can’t even begin to imagine. But, we make our own decisions. The decision to make an example of this planet was not made lightly. Oh, don’t misunderstand, there are militants among us. There was a faction that insisted that we destroy the entire planet, as a warning to all that would ignore our claims. There was also a faction that wanted to just cut our losses and leave. Several teams have been down here studying the situation for nearly 150 years. I’ve been here since 1947."

"Roswell?" Scully breathed.

"No, Miss Scully. Roswell was…well let’s just say Roswell worked better than any of us could have imagined. To use Mr. Mulder’s beloved baseball as an analogy, it was a bunt to get more men on base. We sacrificed a lesser race to insinuate ourselves in other places quickly."

"A lesser race?" Monica sneered. "I can see exactly WHAT we are dealing with here."

"Can you?" He voice was almost dry. "Shall we not get off the track here by discussing human use of monkeys in space or…" He waved his hand.

"You’re right." Skinner snarled. "Let’s not get off track. You’ve been here since 1947 helping to kill three billion people."

"Yes, Mr. Skinner and therein lies the problem. I don’t see myself in that light. I’m afraid I’ve begun to identify with the very race I was sent to help eradicate." He sighed and drank deeply from his cup. "There are others like me. We’ve formed our individual cells and each of us will do what we can to preserve whom we can." He closed his eyes in sorrow. "We haven’t been very successful, I’m afraid. The men you call the Bounty Hunters are very good at what they do. Our inroads have eroded in key spots. But we have places like this set up in Canada, Russia, Mongolia and Germany as well as several more key spots here in the United States. Our headquarters are in the deep Southern Hemisphere. We are hoping to establish New Zealand, at least the south island as alien-free. I’m not sure we can do that anywhere else. We thought England would be a good place, but we were too late. The lists are already being carried out."

"What lists?" Scully whispered. "You mean the explosion at the Prime Minister’s party last weekend?"

"Exactly Miss Scully. With one well placed shot, we were able to kill the leader of Great Britain, the Queen and the future King. Our good fortune continued. We were also able to blame it on the Irish, thus escalating the war between the two old enemies. The Middle East will erupt in a death throe of violence when Palestine thinks that Israel is responsible for bombing three Arab capitals all on the same day. Africa will be unable to withstand the onslaught of the Aides virus. Any place warm has already been infected with the virus your consortium developed in their misguided attempt to stave off the inevitable. Only Australia is free of the virus at the moment and our commanders are undecided whether to just attack with force and be done with it or try a new strain."

Skinner sighed and dropping the women’s hands rubbed his face. "Then it’s hopeless. Why bother?"

Smith stood up again and walked to the window. "You would go gently into that good night, Mr. Skinner? You see - I have become one of you. I can quote your writers better than my own. Frankly, there are those of us who want to see what happens. We want to see if your parent race will come to your aid."

"Why?" Monica stood and angrily approached him. She reached out and spun him around. "Why, damn you? Is it a game with you?"

"Game, Miss Reyes? No. People don’t die in games. I will never leave this planet alive. I probably will never see my…No you must understand. Yours is not the only planet. There are others under dispute. Several, in fact. We are unsure on how to proceed. We have no history for this. I told you we were ancient. Well, we also know we are not the only ones, or even the oldest ones in space. But space is immense and we grow and take. Who fights us? Ourselves? No, we are long past that. But if some great race has decided to challenge us, we need to know why."

Skinner stood, found his still wet boots from last night and pulled them on. Grabbing his coat, he jerked open the door and walked into the now deep snow. It still wasn’t very cold considering how much snow had accumulated. The snow was up to his knees but he trudged into the daylight. He was having trouble breathing and he had to get away. He knew that Smith wouldn’t hurt either Scully or Reyes and so he decided to circle the cabin. See what the home of the resistance looked like. What he saw took away what little breath he possessed. There were three other houses beyond theirs, all larger, all facing a deep valley about 200 feet away. The deep woods that they had pushed through last night surrounded two of the three sides of the property. Ahead offered a panoramic view of the eastern part of Virginia. Behind the property sat a towering rock formation. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but he knew he would have to try. He would not give in. He hadn’t in ‘Nam.

"Sir? Walter?" He turned at her voice. Monica waited.

All he could do was heave his shoulders and let them drop. "What?"

"He says you have to come back in. There isn’t much time." He could tell she was scared and he reached out for her.

She let him embrace her, let him comfort her and himself for just a moment before she pulled back. "Hey. No regrets. Let’s go figure out a way to kick some alien butt."

He laughed. "I hated that movie."

They walked back to the cabin, his arm around her waist. Stepping through the door, she walked into the kitchen. He shed his coat, dropping it across one of the chairs, toed off his boots and walked to the fireplace. Placing another log on the fire, he let the heat begin to dry his jeans.

Neither Scully nor Smith said anything until he turned to face them. "So." He folded his arms across his chest. "What are the ‘leaders of the resistance’ supposed to do? And how the hell did you manage to pick us and when?" The anger that he thought had cooled off outside, returned full force.

Scully was more afraid now than she had ever been. She wanted her son. She wanted this man to tell her that everything was going to work out all right, just like he always had. She had seen through the window the two of them embrace and she suddenly wanted that too, but she stood still, unable to make the first move.

Smith watched the doorway to the kitchen expectantly and when Reyes returned, began to speak. "Thursday, we discovered that the lists have been activated here in the United States also. The Prime Minister of Canada died of an apparent heart attack the night you got lost. The President has already left for the funeral, which will be held tomorrow. After tomorrow’s attack at the cemetery, there will be no stopping the panic."

"Well then, I guess we’ll have to stop the attack." Skinner snarled.

Smith shook his head. "You can’t."

"Can you? Can’t we warn them?"

"Who would believe that the attack came from outer space. There is no bomb, Skinner. No attack force. Hell, they won’t even see the beam until it is too late. No one has figured out that it wasn’t a bomb that killed the Britons. They won’t until it is too late. When the Presidents of the United States and France die tomorrow, all hell is going to break loose. The vice-president is a traitor, part of yet another consortium." He took a deep breath. "Did you think we would put all our trust in one group of traitors, Mr. Skinner? This group thinks that they are saving the U.S. from colonization, damning the rest of the world to eradication, setting themselves up as the peace brokers."

"Fuck!" Skinner began to pace. "Can’t we do something. I know the head of the President’s security detail. I can call him and…" He stopped when he saw the almost impossibly sad look on the alien’s face. "What? He’s dead, isn’t he!"

The pain and sorrow on Skinner’s face broke Dana’s reserve and she silently walked up to him and laid her head on his arm. No words were needed.

Skinner put his arm around her and glared at Smith. "So you can attack from outer space. I assume you have some kind of cloaking device or the military would have seen the ships."

"No. No cloaking device. We just made sure that the people that see the data are ours. Part of Vice-President Winslow’s consortium."

"Monica, make a note. If I get back to D.C., I want to remember to kill Mr. Winslow myself."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was barely audible.

"So the military is under his control?" Skinner was sick to his stomach. He had friends in the Marine Corps. He had people he considered friends in all the branches of the service.

"As Commander-in-Chief, he will command the military, but only certain men are part of the consortium. Important people, but not all of them. The Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff will die, as will the Secretaries of the Navy and Air Force. The Secretary of the Army is one of his."

Skinner stared out into the snow. "What about the Judge Advocate General of the Navy?"

"Chegwidden?" Smith considered for a moment. "No. If I remember correctly, he, along with several others, will be invited to a special meeting held to discuss the aftereffects of the death of the President. It was considered as good a plan as any, to kill any important opposition to their game plan? Why?"

"I’m…we’re supposed to do this on our own? We’re supposed to wait for half-dead refuges to stumble in? Chegwidden isn’t just a lawyer. He’s a former SEAL and he’s kept up friendships that could easily be valuable to us. I want him on our side."

Smith motioned toward the phone on the wall. "Well then, I suggest you make your call."

Scully shook her head. "It doesn’t work. I tried this morning to call my mother. There’s no dial tone."

"Yes there is." Smith gently admonished her. "You just didn’t hear it."

"I see." Rage burned in her eyes. She really didn’t like this alien before her. And, she could see that he knew it by the pain in his eyes.

"Make your call, Mr. Skinner. Tell him to go to Clews Haven. You can have someone lead him up here. Your friends are almost here. One of them can go back down and meet them." Smith studied Skinner. He hoped he had made the right decision all those years ago when he realized that Mulder, for all his desire to believe and all his enthusiasm, would not make a good leader. "Though how are you going to convince him to come?"

"Don’t worry about that. He owes me."

Just as he picked up the phone, Scully screamed. "Look!"

The last time he had seen a truck with tires that big was when he had been flipping through the channels late one night. He didn’t know where they had stolen it from, but it ate through the snow. Scully was already out the door. Skinner could just barely make out Maggie Scully's worried face through the glare off the windshield.

Part 3 - 6

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