::  Working through the Night  ::

Part 7
A New Beginning?

AJ stood by the huge stone fireplace and watched the somber group. The christening of young Jessica Roberts should’ve been a joyous occasion. But there’d been little joy in any of their lives for nearly a year.

"Who would’ve thought that pirates in the Bermuda Triangle would be the high point of our year?" Walter Skinner said as he handed his friend a glass of scotch. "Stole this from that bastard Folmer when I helped move his stuff to the director’s office."

"I’m surprised they’ve kept you as long has they have." AJ savored the excellent liquor, yet another commodity in short supply.

"He really is venal, but surprisingly stupid, thinking that I’d languish in Accounting. Still, I should’ve resigned when you did."

"We talked about it. You and Webb were the best choices. They’d never have trusted me with any information. Besides, what was I supposed to do? At least they didn’t insist you try to justify the execution of men and women who spent their lives defending their country." AJ closed his eyes in pain, hoping that Tom Boone had somehow escaped. He’d put feelers out looking for his old friend. Shaking his head, he returned to the present. "You took care not to be followed?"

"Yeah. I drove all over the state of Maryland."

Both men sighed and watched their lovers coo over the new baby. It was a small group, just the three couples and Jason Tiner.

"How long will you be able to last him out?" AJ continued.

"As long as I can still get intel. Not that I see it doing any good."

"How’s Reyes holding up?"

"Not good. I think she knows it’s for the best, but Webb hurt her badly."

"Like you said, it was for the best. I just hope he knows when to bail. He’s a good man."

"Well, his superiors at the ‘New and Improved’ Homeland Security won’t think so much longer if he keeps up this pace. How many people has he saved?"

"He sent Sheffield and Morris to us last week." AJ smiled at Dana, but shook his head when she held up the bottle, offering him another drink.

"That was a coup of our own," Skinner said. "Of course, nothing tops the fact that he broke the president out of his prison cell two days before the scheduled execution. But, he’s going to begin to think he’s the Scarlet Pimpernel or Robin Hood, and that’ll get him dead. I don’t want to be the one to tell Monica."

"Doggett should’ve stayed on."

"Kind of hard, AJ, when you’ve blackened the eye of the new Director of the FBI."

"Pity we couldn’t save Barnes."

"He was a good man," Skinner agreed.

"Hey! The party still on?" Harmon Rabb’s voice shouted from the back of the house.

"Harm!" Mac handed the baby to Bud and ran to embrace her former partner. "’Bout time you two got back!" She wrinkled her nose, but spared a smile for Fox Mulder, Harm’s lover and partner in crime. And partners in crime was how the new military government saw them. The last they’d heard, there was a bounty of a million dollars on each of them. Webb had sent word that he was being assigned to the case to track down the two ‘deviant criminals,’ as the newscasters were calling them. No one in the new government even mentioned that their real crimes had nothing to do with their homosexuality, but with their part in spiriting away other ‘enemies of the state.’ No one in the new government wanted it broadcast just how many of its opponents were escaping.

"Please tell me we have time for a shower before we eat," Mulder whined. Both men wore scraggily beards and, even over the smell of the roaring fireplace, their body odor was apparent. "Unless Webb has found us more people to get out of DC. We can go in as homeless beggars."

"You need to keep up on the news, partner." Dana still fussed over the baby. "They’ve begun roundups of ‘drains on the economy.’ But, to answer your question, we haven’t heard from Webb since Sheffield escaped arrest."

"Gee, I wonder how he did that?" Rabb laughed, then sobered. "Webb is taking too many chances. They’re going to get wise to the fact that all his really big scores wind up being burned to the point that no one could recognize them."

"Yeah," Harm agreed. "One of these days they’re going to take an independent sample for DNA testing."

Dana Scully joined them; standing so close to AJ that he naturally draped his arm across her shoulders. Mac slipped away from Harm only to find Skinner wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. She didn’t struggle.

"I’m worried about him," Dana said. "Monica is going nuts not being able to see him. In fact, I think we need to send her – if not both of them – up to Canada next."

"When did you see her last?" Mac asked softly.

"She came to the clinic. She was careful. She gave me the information you managed to pass on to her, Walter."

"I can’t believe Folmer is so stupid!"

"You’re gathering important information," Mac said.

"I know, babe. Almost too easily. I’ve access to every system, only Folmer doesn’t know that."

Mulder took Rabb’s hand. "You’ll excuse us; Mac is turning green at the smell."

"Your room is empty. No other guests tonight," AJ said. This cabin, high in the mountains of Virginia, was the temporary headquarters of their little resistance movement. As the two men walked to the back of the house again, AJ sighed. "I can’t believe it. It’s like we’re back in Nazi Germany. Only we aren’t saving Jews – at least not yet – but just ordinary, good people who happen to disagree with the suspension of the very tenets that this country was founded upon." Who would’ve thought that a conservative like himself would be working with a political anarchist like Fox Mulder?

"The problem I have," Dana said, "is that so much of the country seems to be buying into the so called need for martial law. They really believed that President West murdered his gay lover? That the man was gay to begin with? There was never any proof that didn’t come after the fact, from General Todd’s camp."

"Well, the trains are running on time," AJ said. "Just like they did under Mussolini. Business is spiraling to all new highs – but for how long? How long before everything comes tumbling down?"

"Or, if Mulder is right about the aliens," Dana pointed out.

"Don’t start," AJ groaned.

Rabb and Mulder entered the small room they seldom shared. Most of the time, they, along with John Doggett and Victor Galindez, were leading men, women and their families from the dwindling number of safe houses around DC. As soon as Mulder closed the door, Rabb started toward the bathroom at the other end of the room, stripping as he went. "Damn, I can’t stand my own stink; this sleeping out under the stars isn’t what I remember as a kid." He turned on the shower to let the water warm a bit.

"Well, when I camped out as a kid, it usually wasn’t raining – or sleeting." Mulder entered the bathroom, scratching at his face. "I’ve got dibs on the sink."

"Go ahead. I’ll shave in the shower."

"You’re a talented man, lover," Mulder laughed.

"You’ve forgotten how talented, I’m afraid." Rabb entered the shower and quickly lathered up before the mirror completely fogged over. He was just wiping the residue from his face when he felt the telltale cold against his back.

"Tight fit," Mulder murmured as he wrapped his arms around Harm. "I like it like that. Damn, you smell much better." He planted an open mouthed kiss on the spot just below Harm’s neck that had the former flier moaning for more. Turning around, Rabb took the soap and began to wash Mulder, taking care to tease as he did. Moving lower brought their faces close, and they kissed.

Rabb groaned and pulled back, "Hmmmmm. Minty. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to…"

"Shut up," Mulder pulled him back for a long, heated kiss.

Their cocks surged. "Too long. I’ve wanted you so badly this past week," Harm said before nipping tiny bites along Mulder’s jaw. "Oh, damn." He reached down to reciprocate Mulder’s grasp on his cock. "Just like this is fine – for now."

They pulled apart to be able to clearly see what they were doing. Neither spoke of the depth of their feelings. Instead, they pleasured each other, moving in time until they had no choice but to close their eyes as they erupted. Collapsing into a tight embrace, Mulder groused, "I suppose we have to go and make googly-eyes at the Roberts’ baby."

"Come on. It will give us time to rest up for bed later." Rabb kissed him again before opening the door to the awaiting cold.

"Jason, could you grab the cocoa?" Harriet said as she carried the coffee carafes into the living room.

"Sure thing, ma’am."

"Jason! It’s Harriet. I’m not in the Navy any more."

He smiled and nodded. "I remember. Its just old habits are hard to break. You won’t mind if I wait to call the Admiral, AJ…until you do?"

"You’ve got me there, but do try. I feel old enough as it is."

"Sure thing, Harriet."

Mulder sprawled on the rug in front of the roaring fire. "You’re sure no one will come and investigate the smoke?"

"Well, the rain will dissipate most of it, but the houses in these mountains are filled with people who support the new moral, military government." AJ explained from the overstuffed chair. Mulder still couldn’t believe that his staid former partner was content to cuddle in the bald man’s lap. But, he knew that he could trust the former SEAL to protect her with his life. He looked over at Mac and Skinner. Mac used Skinner as a backrest as they shared the couch. Skinner didn’t seem to mind as he held her tight above the barely noticeable swell in her belly. If AJ and Dana were a constant source of bemusement to Mulder, the fact that Skinner was not only going to be a father in six months, but that he’d married Mac in a private ceremony six weeks ago, was mind blowing. But then, everything in his life seemed to be mind-boggling on some level.

It amazed him how wrong and yet how right he’d been. Why the aliens were holding back was a mystery, but then, the army generals who’d overthrown the democratic government were doing just fine in the destruction of all that was good and decent – in Mulder’s eyes at least, and, thankfully, to the people in this room. It was good to not be the only voice crying in the wilderness. It was good that he had Harmon Rabb in his life.

After putting down the coffee carafe, Harriet cleared her throat. "It’s really nice of all of you to come." She took a deep breath, fighting the tears. "I just wish that everyone…" Bud gripped her hand urged her to sit down.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Rabb, from where he was standing at the window watching the wind whip through the trees, said, "We had to stop in Deerpath in Wisconsin. The people at the safe house there are getting very worried about the new rules. Doggett and Galindez were supposed to do it, but they sent word they were involved in something else down south."

"If they’re caught, they’ll end up in Parris Island or worse." Mac shuddered, and Skinner kissed the top of her head. "I can’t believe the people who are buying into this. What price old-fashioned values? Sure, I think foul language is unpleasant to hear, but it’s getting worse than Singapore. They’re turning Quantico into a concentration camp!"

"Easy, sweetheart." Skinner caressed her belly, reminding her to stay calm. At thirty-eight, it wouldn’t be a hard pregnancy, but she needed to be careful.

"I know that. But…" she looked back at her partner and then at AJ. "It isn’t fair that you two lost your commissions."

Rabb laughed sourly. "Did you think they’d let a queer stay in? The Navy was close before the coup, they would’ve found out eventually. I’m luckier than those poor bastards in San Francisco. You really don’t think that fire was an accident, do you?"

They all grew still at the memory of the conflagration that’d destroyed most of the largest gay neighborhood in San Francisco, while firemen were ordered to protect the rest of the city, and let what one newscaster called ‘the scourge of God’ destroy the ‘Sodom of the West Coast.’ Over 500 men and women died in the fire. Another 1500 died in the riots that took place almost immediately after. The Army sent in Apache helicopters, and the twenty-pound canons did more damage than the fire.

Mac looked at Harriet. "I don’t want my baby to grow up in such a place." Harriet looked over at her son, who was asleep next to Fox Mulder. The boy seemed to adore the former profiler almost as much as he loved his godfather, Harm.

Dana nodded sadly. When she’d heard Skinner and Mac’s news, she’d been deeply jealous, but now, she didn’t envy them their hostage to fate. "You and Walter and the Roberts should go to Canada as soon as possible. Maybe set up a base camp up there."

Harm sighed deeply. AJ knew the look, and demanded, "What?"

"You tell him, Fox." Rabb turned to look out the window again. He hadn’t been flying in nearly a year; they’d destroyed the Sarah out of pure spite when they couldn’t find him. He was beginning to hate life.

Mulder watched his lover, then smoothed the hair of the little boy beside him. "Things are getting tense up there. Canada doesn’t want any more refugees. Plus, we think that General Todd is rattling his sword. Making threats. We can still find holes in the border patrols, but the Mounties are starting to send people back, and when they do, the Army is waiting for them. If you don’t have someone to hide you…"

"There’re the mountains," AJ said, holding Dana a little closer.

"And what?" Mulder carefully stood. He moved away from little AJ and scowled. He was careful not to shout, but his red face showed how upset he was. "You think I was lying about the aliens? You think they aren’t aware of this? Hell, they could be behind it. General Todd looks like one of them to me."

"Easy, Fox." Rabb was at his lover’s side.

"What can we do?" Harriet said with stoic resignation.

"We can’t give up!" AJ said fiercely.

"It gets more dangerous each day, sir." Except for a long talk with little AJ before dinner, Jason Tiner hadn’t said much all night, which AJ figured was a real indication of just how badly things were going. Young Tiner always seemed to be so ‘up.’

"What have you heard from the new JAG?"

They all grimaced, but Harriet expressed the opinion for them all. "Captain Singer, my ass!"

"I’m just surprised they didn’t make her an Admiral." Rabb turned back to the room again. "God! Two years ago I would’ve bet my pension that she would’ve never made commander. They just by-passed all the protocols and bam! But, JAG? She should be a laughing stock."

"Well, I think she’s the one who turned you in," Mac said.

"She probably did. Not that she had any proof, other than the fact that I’d stopped dating the blond du jour."

AJ leaned his head back, only to have Dana follow him until her lips nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Had it not been for her and the others, when everything went down, he might’ve tried an act of desperate suicide, taking the traitorous generals with him.

"What would you do?" Jason asked. "I mean if you could start over somewhere new."

"You mean like the Mexican desert?" Skinner said.

"Australia?" said Dana.

"Tiner sighed. "If Mr. Mulder is right, is any place really safe?"

"Probably not." Skinner spoke for his former agent. He wanted to protect Mac and the baby, and perhaps he could protect them for a while. "I guess you hide and do the best you can."

"Could you live off the land, sir?" Roberts still couldn’t break himself of the habit of respect any easier than Tiner.

Skinner thought and nodded. "Yeah. Not alone, but with a group. You need a group."

"How large?" Jason said.

Skinner looked at AJ. There was no way either of them would abandon their friends. "Ten or so."

"No!" Dana sat up. "That’s shortsighted."

"Why?" AJ stirred, but didn’t stop her from standing.

"Why?" She paced, trying to organize her thoughts. "Ten people go off to the woods and hide, and barely scrape by, to what purpose? They’d be so inbred by the fourth generation – if enough of them lived to procreate at all. Why bother?"

"We need people who will remember what it’s like to live under a democratic society. We have to have…" Harriet’s voice trailed off. "Oh, God. It’s hopeless."

"No. It’s not hopeless. You just can’t expect things to remain the same." AJ stood, but made no effort to reclaim Dana. Instead, he too considered the question. "Hell, in four generations I doubt that anything would be the same. But, if you’re going to start a new community somewhere, and you have precedence for it right here in Virginia, where there are communities that have very little contact with the outside world, you need to keep a lot of things in mind. Unless you want a repeat of that town in Deliverance, you’re going to need a sound basis for a gene pool, and you’re not going to be able to have nuclear families."

"Why, darlin’," Dana managed an exaggerated drawl. "I’m starting to rub off on you."

AJ smiled and shrugged. "History is history. What do you think? How many would we need for a sound base?"

"No less than twenty, and all of them must be willing to intermingle and increase the gene pool." She looked over at the two male lovers. "So, Mulder, Rabb, you willing to give it up for future generations?"

Mulder blushed, but Harm nodded. "I always enjoyed sex with women, Dana. I just really enjoy being with Fox – probably for the same reason you’re with AJ."

Mulder stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. Not because he’d said he could make children with a woman, but because that was the closest either of them had come to declaring their feelings for the other. "Yeah, Scully, I could do it, I guess." He didn’t meet her eyes and she turned away, the frustration of her sterility even more daunting than usual.

"So everyone in this room?" Jason prodded them back on track. "Who else?"

AJ was rather perturbed, not only by the conversation, which on some level made sense, but also because Tiner was pushing so hard. Why? Before he could pursue that line of questioning, Mac finally stirred. "Webb and Monica. Like Dana said, it’s time for them to give it up. They’re going to arrest Clay any day and you know it."

Skinner hugged her tighter and added, "And I definitely don’t like the way that Folmer is pressuring her to accept a position under his direct chain of command."

"I know that Clay wouldn’t leave his mother." Harriet said emphatically. "I wouldn’t either. When both of us quit, we’d have lost everything if she hadn’t helped us, under the table, of course." Then she closed her eyes, trying hard to keep the tears from falling. "I’m rather glad Mom and Dad didn’t live to see how bad things have become."

"Oh, sweetie." Bud took her into his arms and hugged her tight. "Mikey for sure. Dad? No. He’d just spend all his time complaining. Besides, he seems happy enough with the new administration." Bud would never forgive his father. He’d thought they’d come to a good place in their relationship. But Bud Senior was a survivor, and he made it perfectly clear that, in his opinion, the military government was the best thing that’d ever happened to the country.

"I understand, Bud." Dana, too, had to come to terms with her brothers’ willingness to cooperate with the new government. "I would want my mother, I think. I think she’d do well." She allowed AJ to pull her back against his chest.

Rabb considered it for a moment. "Yeah, I would want Mom. She’s got nobody since Frank died. I just wish I could reach her. She sounded sick the last time I talked to her. I’m sure we’d take as many people as we could. Bobbi, if she’s still alive, and Sturgis and his dad. And Galindez and Doggett. And don’t forget Victor’s sisters." He looked at AJ. "And, I’m sure your daughter would…"

AJ sighed and shook his head. "As much as I would want her with me, I know I’ll never see Francesca again. She’s got her own problems over in Europe. Things are just as bad there as they are here. Besides, I think she blames me, somehow, for Marcella’s death." So many people had already died. The group grew even more somber than before.

"I think we can come up with twenty easily," Mulder said dryly. "Now, what do you do with them? Where do you go? Just commandeer a C-10? Rabb could fly it, but where? Even if we can pull that part off, and actually find someplace to set up camp, what do you feed them? Scully? You’ve never struck me a being an herbalist? Can you find all the things you need to be a doctor? Hell, forget twenty; you’ll lose twenty the first year."

"I appreciate your trust in my abilities," Dana snapped angrily, but she knew he was right.

"So, we plan!" Harriet said. She was unsure why the discussion suddenly sounded so familiar and somehow comforting. She glanced at Jason. Had they talked about this before? When? She found she couldn’t focus.

Perhaps it was the illusion of planning for an escape that none of them really believed in, except in their deepest dreams, but suddenly, they were shouting out necessities as if it might be real.

"Tents."

"Sleeping Bags."

"Solar Blankets."

"Cots."

"Freeze-dried meals, just to get started."

"Flour."

"Sugar."

"Yeast."

"One of those camping stoves, just until we can figure out how to build an oven?"

"How do you build an oven?"

"I once built a brick barbeque," Skinner offered.

"Great, but what else," Mulder asked. "Could any of us build a house?"

"Well, then," Harriet said, "we’ll need books. I bet there are plenty of books about surviving in the wilderness. I don’t think the Committee for Morality has gotten around to banning those yet!"

"Then books about everything, from sewing to cooking to building things."

"Shakespeare," AJ said softly.

They all grew silent for a moment, then Mac said, "Jane Eyre."

"Brave New World," Mulder whispered.

"The Lord of the Rings!" Roberts offered.

"Mommy, what are you doing?" AJ Roberts stood and stumbled sleepily to Harriet.

"Oh, just naming our favorite books, sweetie. What’s yours?"

"Goodnight Moon."

"Hey, I like that one, too!" Rabb smiled. "And all of Doctor Seuss."

"I like Doctor Seuss."

"What about you, Walter?" Mac asked.

"Catch-22, I think."

"Harriet?" Bud nudged his wife.

"Well, I have so many books I like, including Agatha Christie, but how can we leave out the Encyclopedia Britannica?"

"Damn, Harriet!" Rabb laughed

"Don’t say bad words!" Little AJ hollered.

"Sorry." Rabb blushed, and didn’t say anything else.

Only Dana hadn’t added anything. She sat staring into the fire for a moment then sighed. "The Bible. Sometimes I don’t know why, but it’s part of who we are."

Not ready to lose the gentle discussion just yet, AJ threw out, "Paper and pens, and probably a damned book on how to make our own paper and pens!"

"Glue."

"Yarn."

"Knitting needles! I know how to knit; or, at least, I used to," Harriet said.

"Cloth."

"Lots of cloth."

"Thread and needles. Lord, will we ever know how to make a needle from scratch?"

"A complete doctor’s bag full of medical necessities like penicillin, and antibacterial ointment, and lots and lots of bandages. And you’d better add Gray’s Anatomy to the library."

And so it went. Each new item ricocheted them into new areas like a psychiatric free association. AJ kept waiting for Rabb to demand an airplane, but the former flyer just wistfully requested, "Maybe a book on gliders?"

"Hammer and nails," Bud said.

"Da..darn! Saws and axes, planers, hand drills." AJ sighed. "I don’t even know what to ask for so we can build something to generate electricity. Forget the book."

"Forget electricity, how about plumbing?" Mac asked.

Mulder snorted. "You know, we might as well just pack up a couple of semi’s with a strip mall while we’re at it. Wherever this paradise might be, you better be prepared to adjust to what you find there. You were talking about adjusting our social structures, but I don’t think you can recreate even this building with just twenty or so people who’re basically bureaucrats and…" he glanced first at AJ then, Mac, then Rabb and shrugged, "former military personnel. We may very well have to go back to a more simple way of life."

"Wow, sir. That was almost Trekkian," Roberts said in awe.

"Nah, if it were Trekkian, I’d say beam us and a replicator up to that planet where your very dreams came true."

"Well, you mind if we just settle for a water purification pump?" AJ said.

"Cans of milk! For the babies. You know after, we stop nursing."

"TMI, Harriet," Mulder insisted. But, they were off again until little AJ demanded, "I wanna go home, now!" They looked sheepishly at each other. The euphoria was suddenly gone, and they all felt rather silly.

"We’d better head out, too." Skinner helped Mac to her feet. Dana came and gave Harriet and Bud hugs, and led them to the door.

Rabb, after a long yawn, said his good nights, and Mulder followed him back to their bedroom.

"You could stay, it’s a two hour drive," AJ told Skinner, as Dana was helping Mac on with her old dress uniform wool coat.

"I’d like to. I know we weren’t serious tonight, but we need to start thinking along those lines. Mac and I don’t want the baby born here. We’ve talked about it."

"I understand, so stay. We don’t get together that often anymore." There was a hunger in AJ’s eyes.

"I can’t. Folmer’s called a meeting of all the department heads for tomorrow morning at ten."

"You don’t think he suspects you?"

"Of course he does. He keeps bugging the office, but I’m used to that. The Gunmen figured out how to code the stuff I look at. They route it through so many computers, no one can figure out who has the files open. Drives IT nuts, but I suspect that there’re more guys like me at the Hoover, although none of us are talking to each other."

"That’s a pity." AJ sighed but took his friend’s hand. "Two weeks?"

"If we can make it."

Skinner and Mac drove in silence back to DC. The streets were nearly deserted, save for military vehicles and police. When they reached their turn off, they both had their special red badges to show the soldiers at the checkpoint. Skinner fumed at how Folmer had conveniently kept his name off the memo advising top personnel of the change in the colors of the security badges. Had Kersh not slipped, mentioning it to Cassidy in Skinner’s hearing, he would’ve never found out. He shuddered to think what might’ve happened. The guards were becoming increasingly trigger-happy.

"Look!" Sarah kept herself from pointing. "It’s Mike Roberts."

"Don’t say anything. There’s someone I don’t recognize with him."

Roberts carefully studied both their ID’s and didn’t acknowledge knowing Mac. "Go on," he sneered as he waved them through. He didn’t really know how to act sometimes. If he showed them preferential treatment in front of the new guy, it might get reported back. There were times that he wished he’d resigned his commission like his brother and half his academy class. However, Webb and Chegwidden had convinced him that he could help more by staying in. He could see that it could become rather corrupting. The soldiers under the new ‘provisional’ government lived quite well. Of course, it sickened him to be stationed at Quantico. But it gave him a certain pride knowing that he’d been instrumental in helping Webb free President West. In fact, no one ever suspected that, instead of fleeing the camp immediately, the two men had hid in Lieutenant Robert’s quarters for nearly three days before walking out dressed as soldiers.

"Who the hell was that?"

Roberts turned to study his newest partner. He didn’t like this one – at all! In fact, if he could explain it to his brother, whose appreciation of Buffy the Vampire Slayer was almost as great as his devotion to Star Trek, Mikey would tell him that Master Sergeant Kramer set off his "Spidey" sense. He’d only met Fox Mulder twice, but if the former agent’s allegations about alien infiltrators were even remotely true, they went a long way towards explaining the man next to him. "I wasn’t aware I needed to explain my action to you, Master Sergeant! Skinner is a Deputy Director with the FBI. He has Folmer’s personal security card." It took all his control to not shudder in fear as Kramer calmly looked at him. Thankfully, another car pulled up to the checkpoint. "Papers!" He demanded.

Sarah liked her old apartment so much better than Walter’s sterile duplex. However, when Skinner had gone in to personnel to change his beneficiary forms and his address, word came down that the new "Civil Service Review Board" strongly advised that, for "Security" reasons, Skinner’s apartment was more appropriate for a Deputy Director. They regularly found bugs, and Skinner always destroyed them, shouting long and loud against the subversives who were out to get anyone who worked with the new government, thus effectively deflecting the listener’s suspicions – they hoped.

Tonight, by the time Skinner had swept the apartment to discover no new bugs, Mac was already out of the shower and snuggled under the covers waiting for him. "Don’t dawdle, Walter. I need you tonight."

Skinner took the time to shave before returning to her. She lifted the covers invitingly. "C’mere. It’s cold out there. Warm me up."

Lying on their sides, they stared into each other’s eyes. "I love you, Sarah MacKenzie. I love that you’re having my baby, and I’m sorry that I can’t give you the picket fence and suburban safety that I’d like."

"Hush." She kissed him softly. "I love you, too. We’ll work on it tomorrow. Tonight, please make love to me."

He stroked his hand over her breast. Leaning in for another long kiss, he gently nudged her over until he could rise above her. For a long moment, neither moved nor spoke. Then, Walter leaned in and kissed her again, and again, and again, until she circled his neck, pulling him down on top of her, holding him close. His lips found that spot on her shoulder, and he nipped and licked at it until she squirmed even more, rubbing his growing cock with her thigh. "God, you’re beautiful," he gasped as he moved lower to worry her breasts. "Does this hurt?" he whispered.

"No. O-o-hoooo." She sighed, as he continued to lap at them gently. Everything about him was gentle now. His hand stroking across her belly, his fingers finally playing in her curls, even as he move off to the side, never stopping his rain of kisses upon her skin. Slowly, torturously, he circled her clit, parting her labia, invading her core. She arched up into his touch. "More. I n-n-neeeeed!" She cried out as he increased the pressure until she was bucking under his hand, her cum flowing out of her. "Please, I want your cock."

He rolled over on his back, pulling her with him. "You on top. The books say you can have better control that way."

"Are you still worried that this monster could hurt our baby?" she said as she stroked his cock, so hard and ready for her.

"Well, you keep telling me how big I am." He couldn’t keep the self-satisfied pride from his voice.

"Oh, you are." She scooted back until her lips hovered over his cock. "So big. And all mine." She blew across the head, and he arched up as she had done. She took great pleasure in sucking his cock, drawing it in so deep, then slowly releasing him. "Nice, but I want you inside me. I want to ride you." She grinned and crawled forward, claiming his lips for a long kiss, before carefully lowering herself down on him, more to torture him than out of any fear. She reveled in the way he stretched her, filled her.

She rose and fell, and he reached up to delicately trace her puckered aureoles. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he watched in awe as her rapture overtook her, spreading up in a rosy blush until she gasped out a long, low growl, arching back, driving him deeper towards his own release. Falling into his embrace, she clenched her muscles, holding his softening cock deep inside her. "Sleep now, Walter."

It was late, and Webb was tired. He set the alarms, then ripped the tie from his throat. "Uniforms! They want me to wear a Goddamned fucking uniform."

He stomped through his apartment, back to the kitchen to open the refrigerator, but he couldn’t eat. Memories of the day brought a wave of nausea so intense that he could taste the bile. He touched the blood on his shirt and shuddered. They suspected him; his time was borrowed, and he knew he couldn’t escape his fate. "Hell, after today, they’ll arrest me for gross incompetence." He wished that his mother would leave for Canada, but she was as stubborn as the rest of the women in his life. At least she’d promised that, once he was killed or arrested, she’d not only publicly denounce him, but also cease her work with the resistance. "Yeah, sure she will."

"At least go talk to the fish." The gentle admonishment washed over him, but he refused to turn and confirm the hallucination. "What the hell are you doing here?" He shuddered as her arms wrapped around his waist. "Monica?"

"I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to see you. I heard what happened today. I knew you would need me."

"What are you talking about?" His voice was an anguished rasp.

"I know about Justice Holden."

"What did you hear?"

"I heard that you had to kill him in self-defense. That he pulled a gun on you."

"I killed Justice Holden?" He turned around finally, pulling free from her as he did. "I killed him? Is that what they’re saying?"

"What happened?"

"He was an 83-year old man, who did more in his life for the good of the people in this country than those bastards who are trying to outdo Adolph Hitler. I would’ve welcomed his bullet." He fled the kitchen, unsure of where to go. She followed him, but made no move to touch him again. She found him standing in front of the fish tank, staring at the last of the fish. They, too, seemed to wither under the oppression surrounding them.

"Tell me what really happened."

Clay pulled off his suit coat and flung it across the room in fury. Turning, he let her see the blood on his shirt. "They sent us to question him. Get his loyalty oath. That’s all. Why they insisted was beyond me. It’s not like he was giving press conferences. As far as I know, the only people who ever talked to him were his maid and the last law clerk he hired. The kid wasn’t there when we arrived. I tried to tell Peters, that’s the new guy, scary son-of-a-bitch, to let me handle it. But Holden started badmouthing General Todd and his group. Peters told him to shut up. I tried to keep the lid on. I tried to just get Holden to tell us he wasn’t going to sign the loyalty oath. Then we could leave and apply for the warrant for his arrest. Galindez was already planning on trying to move him to a safe house. Holden couldn’t survive the trip to Canada, but he could’ve been hidden. Only that bastard Peters pulled his gun and shot him."

"Oh, God." She held out her arms, but he shook his head.

"Go home, Monica. I can’t have you here."

"Damn you, Clay. How can you do this to me? I told you I loved you."

"You need to move on, Agent Reyes."

"Move on?" she purred dangerously. "Move on? To whom? John? Somehow I don’t think Maria Galindez would appreciate that." She raised her eyes to his and boldly continued. "Of course, Brad Folmer wants me. I could always go to him and be his whore. Work for the resistance that…" She stopped abruptly as pain, horror and self-loathing skittered across his face. "Clay? Oh, God, you know I wouldn’t…" But he was gone; turning so abruptly and fleeing into the recesses of the apartment. "Damn you!" she muttered, but determinedly followed him into the bedroom. She saw the door to the bathroom slam and heard the lock snick. "Damn you!" she cried louder.

"Go home!" He didn’t even bother to brush the tears from his eyes. Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. He suffered the cold needles, considered burning himself so badly that they’d have to put him in the hospital. His hand hovered over the controls, but he pulled it back and, instead, reached for the soap. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t be here. No one could know about her. They would use her against him when the time came. "Damn, damn, damn!" He spent so much time under the cold spray that his skin began to wrinkle. With equally cold determination, he shut off the water. "You better be gone, Monica." He gritted out as he crashed open the shower door only to find her standing there, holding a large fluffy towel between her outstretched hands. "How the hell did you get inside here? I locked the damned door."

She smirked at him. "I’ve learned a lot from you, Clay. Now come and dry off."

He knew he was defeated. The glare in her eyes, the pain there, announced her resolve. "You don’t understand." He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Get out. Let me at least shave and brush my teeth in peace."

She stood there for a long moment, and they both remembered other times. How many times had she shaved him, only to have it lead to frantic sex on the counter, on the toilet or against the wall? Sighing, she turned and closed the door behind her. In a fit of piqued stubbornness of his own, he once again threw the lock.

She was waiting for him as he stepped out into the room. The moonlight cast a halo around her silent sentry at the window. "Tell me about this new guy," she said. "You said he was scary. How?"

Able to deal with this better than his need for her, he considered the question carefully. "It took me a bit to figure it out. Most of the people who are involved in the roundups are either too scared to fight the current rulers, or zealots out to enforce what they see as the country’s salvation from the rampant perversions. But this guy, Peters, hell, I don’t even know his first name, and I haven’t been able to run a check on him, just sits there next to me. Doesn’t talk, ignores the little questions that partners usually answer. He doesn’t look at you, he looks right through you. Mulder would go nuts over him."

"You think he’s an alien?" she asked quietly.

He was stunned by her question for all of a second, before he realized that she’d proven the point of why she should be with him. "Yeah. Yeah, if it’s a possibility, then this bastard is close to what Mulder describes as those bounty hunters."

"You have to get out. You think that they’d waste a bounty hunter to check an old man’s papers? You said he killed him for no reason."

"He told Todd that he saved my life. I don’t understand how it got out that I killed Holden."

"They could be setting you up." She turned to face him, and he was struck all over again by the fact that he loved her so much, he couldn’t bear the thought of her dying, or being hurt.

"Monica, I’ll figure it out tomorrow."

"Okay. Tonight we get some sleep. I haven’t slept in days worrying about you."

"Yeah, me either. Please, Monica, you have to…"

She was in front of him, her fingers to his lips. "Tonight, Clay. Tonight you and I will pretend that nothing is wrong. Please."

"Damn it." But he pulled her to him, finding her lips, devouring them, then pulling her closer to burying his face in her neck. He needed her…too much. But her hands were already working their magic upon him. Fingers combed through his damp hair, palms worked down his back until she could tug the towel away from him. His hands weren’t idle either. Pulling back from her, he grasped the bottom of her sweater and pulled it over her head. By the time he worked the clasp of her bra open, she’d shimmied out of her slacks. He heard her shoe hit the side of the dresser.

"Please, Clay." She nipped at his nipple as she pulled down her panties. "Let me love you. If it’s just for tonight, let me make love to you."

"Monica!" he gasped as she knelt before him, grasping his already hard cock. Her mouth was such a contrast to the cold shower that he moaned in pleasure. "Not like this, baby, please." He tugged at her shoulders, urging her to stand. When he could embrace her again, he moved them to the bed. "I do love you. You do know that, right?"

"I know."

They lay together, touching each other, finding those spots that they’d learned over their time together. Their lovemaking had always been adventuresome, but now they were almost reverent with each other: tracing, memorizing, reveling in the feel of each other. By the time he settled between her thighs, his cock poised at her opening, he was determined to show her just how much he loved her. Slowly he entered her, pushing all the way in, then pulling all the way out with complete control. She whimpered in her need for him, begged him to let her hold him, but he just lifted her hips upon his thighs, driving himself deeper still.

"You’re so beautiful, Monica. I can’t believe I found you. You can’t know what you mean to me."

"I know, Clay." She arched her back and cried out her release. Only then did Clay begin to take his own pleasure, drawing out each sensation, holding still as her walls milked his cock until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and his seed roiled up from his balls and exploded deep inside her.

Gasping, he pulled out and fell beside her. "Oh, wow. I missed…" He froze as a dozen lights exploded around them. Besides the advancing of film, all he heard was a cadenced clapping.

"Very nice. Very nice indeed, children."

Webb sat up. Monica lay there, staring in horror at Brad Folmer. Behind him was a squad of the special security police that everyone had come to fear. "What?"

"Oh, Monica, darling, you did such a good job." Folmer’s smile was positively clown-like.

"You bastard!" she spit, before surging at him, unheeding of her nakedness. Two soldiers, dressed in the dark brown uniforms, grabbed her and hauled her back.

"Now, Monica, you’ll get demerits for coarse and vulgar language." Folmer turned his attention to Webb, who was watching the interplay closely. "You didn’t tell Webb you were working for me?"

And Webb’s face cleared as he exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Folmer, for the confirmation. I didn’t think anything could turn her, but you played it wrong, old son."

Folmer tried hard to keep the disappointed anger from his face. "Take him. Don’t bother with clothes. He’ll be warm soon enough." Two more soldiers stepped forward, but Webb stood without assistance. Each grabbed an arm.

"What are the charges?"

"Charges? Hmmmmm." Folmer’s eyes raked over Monica’s naked form. "Well, simple fornication is still such a sticky subject with the public. I know." He snapped his fingers as if he had just thought of it. "You’ve gone quite mad. You already have a reputation for burning to death all those poor souls." He stepped closer to Webb, who met his cold appraisal unflinchingly. "Tell me – old son – just where are you getting the bodies to substitute for the people you help escape."

"So that’s the charge?"

"Dear me, no. Murder of a respected Justice who’d signed his loyalty oath, then rape of a loyal FBI agent."

Webb paled but managed, "Rape? You yourself just said simple fornication."

Folmer handed his gun to one of the officers. "You know, you should be happy it will be me. I could just leave her here for my men."

"Brad!" Monica struggled against the men holding her. "You can’t do this."

"Sure I can, bitch." He pulled off his jacket, then his tie and shirt. "You gave up a lot for this traitor, Monica. His mother doesn’t have enough clout to even keep it out of the papers. But then, that’s what we want."

"What?"

"Oh, please. We all saw that old movie. Robin Hood, or in this case, Fox Mulder and his faithful band of merry men will endeavor to free Webb. Unfortunately, you, my dear, will not be cast in the role of heroine. You’re not worth anything to me anymore. You’re just another prop. Two murders in one day."

"Folmer! Don’t do this." Webb grew very still. "You want something."

"I already told you want I want. You think that I give a damn about all those people you helped escape?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, you’re wrong. You helped us really. The Canadians are on the verge of sending troops to the border, which will result in skirmishes and, of course, terrible accidents happen."

"You’re a real son-of-a-bitch," Webb said, even as one of the soldiers struck him.

Folmer laughed and unbuckled his belt. "You can watch." He unclipped his holster and started to hand it to one of the men when he stopped and stared. "Who the hell are you?"

Everyone else in the room looked at him, then looked to where he was staring. "Sir?" One of the men, almost in Folmer’s line of sight, stepped closer.

Folmer ignored him, speaking to empty air. "I asked you a question, Petty Officer!"

"I can’t let you do this, Mr. Folmer. It’s wrong, and somewhere deep inside, there’s a part of you that knows it’s wrong. If I had the time, we could talk. But I don’t."

"You’re GODDAMNED right, you don’t!" Folmer raised his gun.

"No!" Several of the men shouted, but it was too late. Folmer emptied his gun into what he thought was the young man he’d recognized from Lauren Singer’s office.

Three men fell under his barrage and the entire room was up for grabs. Webb didn’t waste any time analyzing Folmer’s descent into insanity. He took the opportunity and jerked free from his captors, who immediately rushed to the defense of their comrades.

"Clay! We have to go!" Monica grabbed at his hand.

"Go where?" He looked toward the door but it was full of even more soldiers.

"We have to go into the bathroom."

"What? There’s not even a skylight in there!"

"Clay, please!" She tugged at him, and since there was little to be done, he followed her. She closed the door and locked it. "Here." She threw his bathrobe at him and grabbed a towel from the rack.

"What’s going on?" He reached for her but everything around them simmered and suddenly they found themselves in a vast empty room. "Oh, my God."

"Holy cow." Monica clutched the towel to her breast. "He said everything would be okay. He said that you trusted him."

"Who?"

"Jason Tiner."

AJ lay quietly next to Dana. He hadn’t slept well last night, but strove to not disturb her.

Even in the gray dawn, the rain still sleeted against the window. The house was secure enough, the view in good weather pretty enough, and the forest around them good for hiking and hunting deer. But it wasn’t what they were talking about last night. It wasn’t a place where they could start over. Not with six people in the three bedrooms, certainly not with twenty plus.

It was surprising how the conversation that Jason Tiner had inadvertently started raised so many questions in his own mind. After his resignation, and subsequent laying low to avoid arrest for whatever trumped up charge Todd could come up with, AJ hadn’t thought much past the moment. He’d made sure that the cabin that Porter Webb had found for them was tight and clean and defendable. He’d stocked it with food and guns. But, he knew that if anyone really wanted to find them, they could.

Everyone had such good ideas last night. The things they’d need to not only survive, but to thrive in a new place. He was astounded at all the things that he’d never have thought of: cloth and needles for clothing, the medical supplies, the paper and books. He now wished that someone had written it all down. Funny, Tiner seemed so focused on the conversation, but AJ couldn’t remember the young man even once suggesting anything other than that they continue.

"AJ?" Dana rested her weight on her elbow and studied her lover. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, darlin’."

"Baloney. Talk to me. You’re thinking about last night, aren’t you? What was said? If we could really do it?"

"Could we?"

She leaned further in and kissed him softly. "I’m not one for biblical quotes, but ‘Wither thou goest.’ And you damned well better not goest without me."

He pulled her down for a longer kiss, shifting her until she straddled his hips. "I’m going nowhere without you. Stay home today."

She captured his lips again, moving her hips until they bumped against his erection. Sighing out of the kiss, she gazed down at him. "Can’t. Mrs. Able is due any day, and she’s taken it into her head that the storm troopers are going to come for her. I need to be there."

"I’ll come with you." He caressed his hand up and down her arm, grazing the sides of her breasts as he did.

"Too dangerous. I think they watch me, not just to find Mulder, but you and anyone else with a price on their head. Besides, you need to stay here and make sure that Mulder and Rabb finish that storage closet for the canned goods we’re going to store here."

"So, I’ve been reduced to playing nursemaid to Rabb and M…" At her snort, he laughed. "Right, where’s the change. Come here, woman. I want to make love to you."

"Even if I can’t…"

"Hush." He rolled them over, and she circled his waist with her legs, holding him tight. Even after all this time, it still amazed her the way he stretched and filled her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unwilling to allow him to see her tears. Even though he professed to be too old to start another family, she longed to have a child with this man.

"Bobbi?" The hoarse voice pleaded.

Bobbi Latham doubted that Kate Pike could even see her through her swollen, blackened eyes. "Hush now, Kate. Sleep, baby. I’ve got you." She cradled the dying woman to her breast, tears tracking through the blood on her own face, the salt from her tears stinging the raw cuts.

"I’m sorry," Kate whispered.

"For what, girlfriend? It was a good plan. We tried. We failed." And the JAG lawyer had paid dearly for the escape attempt from the women’s quarters at Parris Island. Bobbi could just see out the window of their cell. Birds used to fly by, but now, it was as if God had called all his creatures to flee this hellish place.

She closed her eyes, trying to summon something pleasant, but instead, those last, horrible days came crashing back in vivid detail.

Kate had returned to DC to testify before the Congress about the corruption at the Naval base in Hawaii. The CO, JAGPAC, and several high-ranking officers were accused of theft of government property. They were just leaving for lunch when General Todd, with the help of several rouge Secret Service agents and a squad of troops supposedly being presented with a group citation, overthrew the presidency. No one had ever reported how many staffers, loyal Secret Service agents and foreign diplomats died in the coup.

Within moments, squads of soldiers sympathetic to Todd had overrun the capitol. Loyal DC police, US Marshals and even loyal security guards were mowed down. The Senate Majority Leader and the Speaker of the House were both summarily executed as traitors to the American people. A freshman Congressman from Nebraska, whom Bobbi barely recognized, was named the new Speaker of the House. Ten Senators and one hundred Congressmen supported Todd, their approval becoming the rubber stamp for his reign of terror.

Bobbi and other elected officials were charged and convicted of defrauding the American public. Kate’s crime had been refusing a direct order to shoot Sturgis Turner when he attacked Bobbi’s Army lawyer. She still didn’t know if Sturgis was alive or not. She was just grateful that her parents hadn’t lived to see the collapse of the government they’d both served.

"Bobbi?" Kate insisted.

"What, honey?"

"Why is Tiner standing there?"

Bobbi sighed. Why the Commander would see AJ’s, and now Lauren Singer’s, Petty Officer at her death was beyond her understanding "I’m not sure."

They’d almost made it. Kate, still lovely even after months of working in the Parris Island laundry facility, had seduced their smitten guard, promising him his deepest desire if he helped them escape. He’d freed them, told them to hide in the back of the laundry truck, and gave them the address of his house where they could hide. Now, the guard hung by his neck in the middle of the yard and Kate, who’d insisted that it’d been her plan alone, lay raped and beaten so badly that both of them knew she wouldn’t live through the night. No medical treatment had been offered.

"She’s hurt very badly, isn’t she?" The soft voice jerked Bobbi out of her memories.

"How?" she started, but Jason Tiner put his fingers to his lips and crouched before her.

The new guard, angry at being given deathwatch duty, stood glaring down at her through the bars.

"How what, bitch?" he spat out.

Bobbi just shook her head. He doesn’t see him! What the hell is going on?

"Answer one question, ladies."

Bobbi’s eyes darted to the guard and decided: What the hell, let him think I’ve gone nuts. Maybe I have. "Okay."

"If you were given the chance to start over, in a safe place, would you take the chance?"

Well, okay. I’m definitely nuts. AJ Chegwidden’s yeoman is my new invisible friend, and he’s standing before me asking crazy questions. She looked down to see Kate trying to see not her, but Tiner. Kate’s lips were moving wordlessly. When Bobbi looked back at the apparition before them, Tiner was nodding and smiling.

"Crazy bitches!" the guard snarled.

Kate actually agreed with the guard about her sanity, but she whispered softer still, "Not alone, but if I had friends with me. Perhaps. Do you know? Did Sturgis Turner make it?" She felt Kate stir in her embrace and smiled wider. "Can you get her help?"

Kate struggled, "Get Bobbi out. I’m dying."

"Easy, Commander. Don’t you worry about anything right now."

The guard was becoming not only angry but also a little worried. He was forced to watch them, and even though half the guard cadre had taken their pleasures on the one, he’d been told to leave them both alone; that the commandant himself wanted to make an example of the former congresswoman. "What is this shit?" He advanced on the cell just as the two women shimmered out of existence. His eyes rolled back in his head in shock, and his last thought was that he’d soon join the previous guard, hanging from his neck in the middle of the parade grounds.

:: :: :: ::

Clay and Monica, once they accepted the fact that no one was coming for them, began a careful exploration of their sanctuary and prison. "You know, I’m having a hard time dealing with this, aren’t you?" he asked as they moved through the dim light, unable to see much beyond their personal space.

"Heck, with all the X-files and things I’ve seen, I’m having a hard time…look!" She point to the outlines on the wall looming before them. As they cautiously continued, she pointed out, "Notice how the light seems to move with us?"

"Or we move with it, like sheep to the…"

"Stop it." She reached out to trace the pattern, but Clay pulled her back.

"You don’t know what it is. I know it looks like a door, but…"

"Sometimes a door is just a door."

"Yeah, an alien door." He took a shaky breath. "I can’t believe I just said that."

"Well? You know of a transporter project that the government is working on?"

"Jesus. Bud Roberts would go nuts over this." Pulling her to his side, he touched the panel. But, almost before skin made contact with the cool metal, it slid open revealing a lighted space. "A closet! It’s a closet!" He glared at the material hanging inside. "What the hell is that?"

"Well, they looked like clothes, sorta." She reached past him and pulled back the soft material from the hanger. "A jump suit, maybe?"

"I’ll never fit into one of those," he insisted.

She let the towel fall from her. It took a moment, but with a gentle tug, the front of the suit opened from neck to crotch. "Oh, my," she sighed as she pulled on the pale tan material. "Very soft."

Clay watched in wonder as she pulled it together in front. Not only did it seal but conformed to her curves. He stood there completely bemused.

"What?" she demanded.

He touched one of the suits still hanging in the cubicle, fisting it in his hand, then he reached out and trailed his hand over her breast.

"Hey!" But she didn’t admonish him further. "Holy cow? It’s like one of those swimsuits with the cups inside. But there weren’t… how?"

He shook his head and pulled the robe off. He wasn’t overly large but, even flaccid, Monica always mentioned how much she liked the way he could fill out a Speedo. Now, his cock hung limply against his balls. "You’ve got slips that are heavier than this. How can it conform yet cover you so completely. It should mold like plastic wrap." He put one leg into the material. He paid careful attention pulling on the other leg. As the material covered his genitals he felt her scrutiny with little embarrassment. He pulled it over his arms and Monica stepped in front of him. She brought the edges together and he tried to see how it sealed. Then she ran her hand over his chest, down to cup him, only to find rigid protection there. "Well, as my cousin Bubba from New Orleans asked the first time I explained a thermos to him, ‘How do it know?’ How can it tell it needs to protect my breasts and your genitals?"

"You’re ‘package’ looks pretty protected, too. Incredible. And for something so lightweight, I’m remarkably warm now." He reached down and picked up the robe and towel. After some consideration, he hung them inside the cubicle. The door was already sliding shut as he pulled his hand out. "They have got to be watching us."

"Oh, God."

"What?"

"I saw too many Twilight Zone episodes as a kid. I just hope we’re not in a zoo of some kind."

"I just hope whoever they are, we aren’t like ants to them. Come on, let’s check out the rest of these panels." Each design was spaced along the wall. Some were large, and others mere one-foot squares. One of these yielded two pairs of boots that appeared to be too small to fit either of them, but conformed to their feet to give rigid protection.

They came to a large panel, longer than it was high. When Clay touched it, the panel revealed a lighted, padded compartment. "Gee! A bed."

They were both exhausted from their ordeal, and neither could keep from yawning. She caressed her hand up his arm. "Clay? Could we?"

He studied the height and depth. "I think it’s meant for one. Should we try another…"

"No!" she said hastily.

Webb appreciated her fear. He didn’t want her out of his sight. "Maybe it’ll grow, too." He’d just hoisted himself into the soft interior, when they felt the charge shoot through the air. The light seemed to draw their attention to the center of the room. "We definitely need Bud Roberts here," he breathed as he slowly made his way over to the huddled shape.

"Oh, sweet Jesus in heaven, where are we?"

"Bobbi?" Webb recognized the voice immediately.

"Webb? Oh, God! Clay, is it really you? Where are we? Help her. Please help her!"

Webb fell to his knees next to the bruised and bleeding women. "They said you were dead! Where were you? We looked for you. Sturgis was out of his mind with grief!"

"Not now. Help her!" Bobbi insisted as she scooted back so Kate would straighten out a bit.

"Who is it?" Webb really couldn’t recognize the pulpy face.

"Kate Pike."

It was like the wind had been knocked out of him. He’d only met the woman a few times, but she’d been an alluring beauty. "Monica! Check those other cubicles. See if there’s water, or even medical supplies."

"That won’t be necessary, Mr. Webb." A gentle voice came out of the darkness. A moment later, a small woman wearing a flowing shift that match her flaming red hair, followed by men dressed much the same as Clay, stepped out into the light, or perhaps the light grew to encompass them. "Take her to the infirmary," she said softly, and one of the men stepped forward.

Clay put himself between the women and the newcomers. "Who are you, and what are you going to do to us?" He swallowed at her intense gaze. "Look, it’s not like we don’t appreciate the help. I know we would’ve died without your intervention, but I want some answers."

"Oh, my God!" Monica gasped when she recognized the woman. "Miss Cook?"

"Agent Reyes." She turned her attention back to Webb. "Of course you want answers. However, our sensors indicate that Commander Pike has suffered greatly, and will die soon without medical assistance. Miss Latham needs to be looked after, too. All in good time, Mr. Webb."

The three men crouched in the dark outside the security perimeter of Parris Island. Floodlights played across the camp, throwing everything into deep shadows or stark definition. They’d found one spot that seemed to escape the interspersing lights. They wore the natural camouflage earned by slogging their way through the marshes and swamps that surround the Marine base.

John Doggett sighed, "I hated this place."

Victor Galindez nodded in agreement. Both men studied the third with concern.

"Commander?" Galindez hadn’t known Sturgis Turner well, but when he’d heard the man’s story, Galindez knew he’d help. Congresswoman Latham had been a classy lady in his estimation, feisty. "Commander?" This time he nudged the man who’d insisted upon coming with them.

Turner stared across the ‘no man’s land’ between the two new chain link fences. He still wasn’t sure that his intel was correct. He shouldn’t have left her, even though she’d screamed for him to flee. ‘You can save me if you escape.’ And he had. He’d run like a dog. Kate Pike had shot the one guard who could’ve stopped him. He owed her. But, he HAD to save Bobbi or die trying. He’d stumbled upon the small resistance movement that Chegwidden was heading during his own exile as a fugitive from justice. Of course, the bounty on Chegwidden’s head far exceeded the pittance on Turner’s head. But then, Turner had no illusions as to his worth as a scapegoat. He’d done only one thing wrong in his career as far as Todd was concerned – he’d tried to save Bobbi Latham. And so he watched, even though he knew that Galindez and Doggett were worried about his ability to handle the coming mission. But he was a patient man, and he finally pointed out, "The guards are erratic at best. We don’t know if it’s because they’re lazy and unconcerned, or if they’ve planned it this way. We’ll have to go in quickly."

Doggett pulled the wire cutters from the pack they carried. "We should go in one at a time."

Galindez didn’t like it – any of it. But then, there wasn’t much these days that he did like. He’d served the Marines most of his adult life. He’d spent time at Parris Island, though long past the days when it’s rep was that of one of the worst – and best – places in the country to learn to be a Marine. Even in the nineties, when the Marines tried for a more ‘enlightened’ approach, the climate made it a hellish detail. Now, he just hoped they’d find the two women and survive the day. His sisters depended upon him. Valerie had lost her job in the aftermath of the coup. Maria was visiting at the time, and ended up unable to get back home. Elena and Nora both worked in small shops, and they alone put bread on the table for the five of them.

Maria would never forgive him if Doggett died. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on between the two; they seemed overly polite to each other whenever he was in the room with them. But he’d seen the gleam in her eye as the man walked past her. Victor wasn’t sure if it was a true meeting of the minds, or they were just reacting to the hell they’d found themselves in.

"I’ll take point." Doggett cut out an opening in the fence before looking back at the two men. "I trained here. I know this place like the back of my hand. They’re supposed to be holding the women in the old brig block. We’ll check there first. Victor, you bring up the rear."

"Roger that."

Turner was already pushing his way through, ready to do what needed to be done, or finally die. He crouched and waited for Doggett to cut an opening in the next fence. Galindez, wishing they had night goggles, had just cleared the first fence when it seemed that every light in the compound focused in right on the spot where they stood. The sound of bolts being thrown alerted them to their doom. "Fire!" Someone shouted. "Kill them all."

Turner felt no fear; only relief that he wouldn’t have to live with his guilt any longer. He prayed his father would find some measure of safety. After a moment, surprise that he couldn’t hear anything else, bewilderment that he didn’t feel the bullets tear through his body, and confusion as he felt the change in atmosphere, all forced him to open his eyes. "What the devil?"

Ever since the coup, ever since his demotion back to Assistant Director of Accounting, Skinner made it a point to never show up to work before nine o’clock. For a decade and more, he’d always been one of the first men to arrive and the last to leave. Now, he worked his eight hours and no more. The intelligence he gathered was best done during the day, when the computers buzzed with activity, and he could route his requests, or at least do what the Gunmen had told him to do to route his requests, through so many other computers that, by the time computer security even suspected something was amiss, the program was shut back down.

This morning, as he stroll up to the security checkpoint, he sensed something was wrong. "AD Skinner," a guard that he didn’t recognize snarled. "I’ve been told to advise all the ADs and DDs that there is an emergency meeting at nine ." He looked at the clock on the wall and the smirk told Skinner everything he needed to know.

Only he, Kersh and Cassidy remained from the original management cadre. The rest had been transferred to the beefed up Homeland Security, or summarily executed. But Walter Skinner was damned if he was going to show any fear to the guard before him. "I was told ten. If it was such an emergency, someone should’ve called me. God knows they do when a temp’s computer goes on the blink. Call the Director’s AA and tell her I’ll be late."

"Your choice, but I’m not calling." Skinner wondered it he was an alien bounty hunter, or just one of Folmer’s thugs.

«Well, in for a penny…» He stepped into the elevator and hit "6" where his office was located instead of "7" where Folmer, and supposedly everyone else, was waiting. He’d check in with Kim and toss his coat in his office. As the doors of the elevator closed, he shuddered as the cold chill of premonition washed over him. Maybe it was his long association with Mulder and Scully (he still thought of them that way, when he thought of them in connection with the FBI, though, more often than not, he called her Dana to her face now) or perhaps he was just worried about Mac. He knew she chaffed at her inability to work. They’d agreed that she’d take a more circumspect role, working behind the scenes, taking care to never be followed, but acting as liaison only.

He never had direct contact with Mulder or Doggett. He seldom saw Scully. Last night had been the first time in months. As the doors opened on the sixth floor, he sighed. He doubted that the four of them could ever be together again. And that saddened him. But then, there were more important things to consider now – like surviving to find that place they’d discussed so excitedly last night. Mac had talked of nothing else as they drove home. Even their lovemaking last night had taken a decidedly optimistic tone.

He pushed open the door leading into Kim’s office and stopped cold. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled.

The young woman sitting at the desk quailed, then straightened her shoulders. "Nancy Smith, Mr. Skinner. Miss Cook called and said she was taking her accumulated leave."

"Her accumulated leave?" Skinner felt weak in the knees. In ten years, Kim Cook lost more ‘use or lose’ annual leave than most people used regular vacation time. She was ALWAYS at her desk. And, if she did take a day here or there, she’d ALWAYS told him days, weeks, months in advance.

The phone rang and Nancy picked it up, glancing at the LCD screen as she did. The smirk on her face was a duplicate of the one the guard downstairs wore. "Yes. Yes, sir, he’s right here. No, Mr. Folmer, I’ll tell him."

She was Folmer’s spy. Not that he was surprised. Well, he’d find out where Kim was and rescue her, if need be. He’d need to call Monica, too. He tossed his coat on his conference table, took what he figured was his last look at an office he’d never been comfortable in, and stalked past the girl, even as she shouted after him, "Don’t forget the budget reports."

He hoped his cell would work in the elevator. It had once before, though not well. It occurred to him that this was the same car where Scully had ‘thanked ‘him for the information that led them to the Bahamas, the first time.

Wishing desperately that he could see Mac again, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone only to watch, fascinated as it, then his hand, dissolved into sparkling stars.

"Skinner!" Monica’s voice snapped his attention up to look around frantically.

"What the fuck?"

"I understand, sir."

"You understand what, Agent?"

Excepting to see Folmer’s private army pointing automatic weapons at him, he was having a hard time adjusting to the small group of people. Doggett and Galindez were holding back a black man who he assumed was Sturgis Turner, though they’d never met. All three were focused on Clayton Webb, who was talking to someone just beyond the halo of light.

"Look! Just let Turner go to her."

"We can’t, Mr. Webb. We do not wish anyone else to see the ship. Miss Latham and Miss Pike are special cases. Besides, there is much for all of you to do before we put you into stasis for the voyage."

"Kim!" Skinner’s roar should have reverberated throughout the room, but some trick of the acoustics cushioned it, smoothed it out to a rumble.

"Calm down, Walter." Monica sighed. "I thought I was going nuts, too. Might still be, I guess."

"Hello, Mr. Skinner." Kim Cook stepped fully into the light. Her red hair, so like Scully’s, seemed to flame. She’d always been so professional and so attuned to his needs, but now she almost looked omnipotent.

"What the hell is going on here? How did I get here? Where is this place and where the hell is my wife!?"

Kim smiled sadly. "We’re doing our best to save as many of the human race as we can before the invasion begins." She tilted her head to listen to something that the rest of them couldn’t hear. Nodding, she returned her attention to the dazed people around her. "Mr. Skinner, we are doing our best to get to Mrs. Skinner, as well as the rest of your group, before Folmer and his men capture them. There is nothing for you to do but wait." She smiled at Webb. "Continue your exploration. You were nearly to the sanitation chambers. Mr. Galindez, Mr. Doggett and Mr. Turner could benefit from them. Mr. Skinner should probably change into a jump suit for conformity."

Sturgis Turner, who’d momentarily stopped struggling to see if this new arrival might help him in his goal, surged forward. "I want to see…" He made a move to grab her. Skinner, still of a mindset that this woman was someone he should protect, and Webb, out of sheer fear for Turner, tried to stop him. Sturgis flew across the room, hung in the air a fraction from one of the hard walls, then was gently deposited on the ground.

"Clean up, Mr. Turner," Kim said kindly before stepping back into the darkness. Her voice floated back. "Oh, Mr. Skinner?"

"What?" he managed to choke out.

"While we fetch your friends, continue with the discussion you, Mr. Chegwidden and the others started at the cabin."

"What?" Webb demanded.

After Skinner’s explanation, Webb ran his hands over his face, "Let me get this straight. Somehow Jason Tiner whisked us away from certain death to a place out of…out of…oh hell, I don’t know what!" he cried, then at Monica’s touch on his shoulder, he struggled to regain control of himself. He looked at her and asked, almost hopefully, "We’re not dead, are we?" As if he could handle that easier than the reality he was faced with.

"Don’t think so," she said.

Skinner snorted, "With Tiner as Gabriel and my secretary in the role of St. Peter? What did she say to you?"

"Walter," Doggett, who, to this point, had pretty much just stood there once Sturgis had broke free, shook himself. "What the hell is this? Kim is one of them?"

"I don’t think so. What sense would that make? Mind fuck? They’re doing real well at that. But other than that, what can they hope to accomplish with a group of us, that they couldn’t do with us as individuals? Besides, it’s Kim."

"What is this place?" Victor finally spoke. "What do we have to do to escape? I have to get back home. My sisters! I won’t leave them." Not waiting for an answer, Victor began to walk the perimeter, more lights showing more panels. He went to one that looked like a door and started to push on it. Just as it had with Webb, it opened before Victor could actually touch it. His momentum barreled him into the space and a clear door closed behind him. Spinning around, frantically pounding on the door, they could see he was yelling but couldn’t hear anything.

"Get him out!" Doggett cried and ran forward. The rest watched as lights flashed and a cloud of something swirled around Victor. Sturgis joined Doggett and both tried to push the door open. There wasn’t room for either Webb or Skinner to aid the men so they stood off to the side. Victor’s face finally disappeared behind the thick steam.

Monica had already figured out what the booth was. "Oh, step back," she admonished her partner. Doggett turned to rebuke her, but just as he did, the door swooshed open. Victor, a wide-eyed look of terror on his face; stood there, completely clean and completely naked.

Webb sighed, then walked over to the door where they found the uniforms. "Here. Don’t argue; it’ll fit." He took another long breath and grinned. "You next, Doggett. What the hell did you step in?"

"You’re damned cavalier about this!" Sturgis jeered as Doggett gingerly stepped inside. "This reeks of the gas chambers at Dachau."

"Yeah, only he walked out." Webb said. "Look, I’m on the verge of hysteria myself. You see the doors? Try them all. Have at it! Hell, maybe you’ll find the damned weapons locker – or better yet, the liquor cabinet!" The two men were nose to nose.

"Clay!" Monica grabbed his arm.

But it was Skinner stepping between the two who defused the situation. "That’s enough."

Doggett stepped out, blushing a bright red, his hand trying hard to cover his groin. He grabbed at the gossamer suit and used it to cover himself further. He made no move to pull it on, glaring instead at Monica.

"Oh, for goodness sake! After all we’ve been through together!" But she turned around and allowed him some little privacy.

"This is too weird." Doggett sighed to everyone. "Feels funny."

"Clean up, Turner." Skinner’s tone left no room for argument, though Sturgis thought about it for a moment.

He decided to comply. When he was clean and clothed, he turned belligerent. "Now!" he shouted to whoever was listening to them, and he had no doubt that everything they said and did was being viewed. "Where the hell is she?"

"Sturgis?" Bobbi’s voice shook with emotion as she stepped into the light surrounding them. "Oh, God! Is it really you?"

He was at her side and she was in his arms before she finished. "Bobbi?" He really didn’t believe it yet. Tears shone bright in the spotlight. And for the first time, in a very long time, he closed his eyes and prayed, "Praise God, it really is you." He stepped back and opened his eyes again to study her. "You look good. Webb said you were hurt really bad."

"I was, though not as bad as Kate. They’re keeping her longer."

Webb stepped up to touch her shoulder. "Bobbi?" He studied her carefully. "Damn, they did clean you up. Even the swelling’s gone. You have any idea?"

She shook her head. "I don’t know." She looked up and saw the rest of the people. "Victor Galindez!"

"Congresswoman."

"Just Bobbi now. You’re Walter Skinner, with the FBI, right?"

"Yes, ma’am." He turned to Monica and Doggett, who were standing together, and made those introductions too, though he finished with, "I guess none of us are with the FBI any longer."

"No congress either, Mr. Skinner. No United States." Bobbi began to cry softly.

"Not much time for Earth, either." Kim walked back into the light.

"Kim! Damn it! What the hell is going on? I want details and I want them now." Skinner barked, falling back into his surly AD mode that’d made him the terror of the Hoover in the old days. Back when the only people who knew better were Dana Scully, Fox Mulder and this woman.

As she’d always done, Kim met his fury calmly, but with a sad smile. "I told you. The Nems – those who you call the Grays - have succeeded in their plans. They always do. Their time has come. They will – they’ve won. That which you call the black oil is now rampant. The traitors in the US and the rest of the world tried to negotiate with them. It will buy them little time. Todd and the rest will live long enough to understand that there is no honor between Nems and those they consider lesser beings than themselves. All the traitors did was hasten the inevitable."

"We’ll fight them, damn it! We’ll do what Tiner wanted us to do. We’ll start over and raise a resistance movement." Skinner pleaded, already knowing it was too late. "Will you help us?"

"Walter, we of the Race are helping the only way we can. We are a peaceful people. We eschewed violence a millennium ago. We do what we can with what we have. We have no weapons, no special powers, at least nothing that can stand up to the Nems. But we’ve adapted and we help."

"Why haven’t they destroyed you?" Webb demanded.

She shrugged. "Because they don’t know we exist as a threat to them. We are a nomadic people. We’ve had no home world for as long as any of us can remember. Oh, we sing of Harna, but it is a myth. We’re peaceful traders among races of warriors. We move the goods that are needed throughout the galaxy. Our ships are the fastest of all. We guard our privacy, and do not take sides in any dispute. To do so invites expulsion from our ships."

"But you’re helping us? What’s the plan?" Galindez said weakly. "Take us where? Some refugee camp to live out our days among people who have nothing but contempt for us? No thanks. I’d rather go down fighting."

"Damn straight!" Doggett muttered. He looked down at Monica. There hadn’t been time to talk to each other before now. "You okay?" He glared at Webb, blaming the CIA man for something that even he couldn’t understand.

"I’m fine."

"What’s the deal, Kim?" Skinner ground out. "And, where’s my wife?"

"Mrs. Skinner will be here soon, as will Miss Scully and Mr. Chegwidden." She paused and listened to that something only she could hear. However, the smile on her face served to calm a few of them, though Galindez still paced restlessly, and Sturgis couldn’t seem to let Bobbi move more than a step away from him, before wrapping his arms around her again.

"Kim!" Skinner was rapidly losing what little patience he still possessed.

"Miss Pike is awake and rather frightened."

"I’ll go to her," Bobbi said.

"No, We’ll bring her to you as soon as she is calmer."

"But she was too hurt! She was dying! She knew it!"

"We mended her physical injuries. She is, once again, whole of body, perhaps better than she was before they hurt her so badly. The child is no longer in danger of aborting."

"Oh, God!" Bobbi began to cry.

"It is three weeks, so it is not a result of her rape."

"The guard, Tony." Bobbi let Sturgis comfort her, but her sobs were reaching hysteria.

"You must understand that she will be very fragile. We have no experience with treating the human psyche, though we’ve seen it at its worst."

"We understand," Monica said.

"Good." Kim turned briskly; efficiently, almost like Skinner remembered her, when all he knew of her was that she was the best AA he’d ever had. "Now, you must continue the discussions. Who do you need with you?"

"How many can you save?" Skinner asked.

"This ship? Our cargo holds will accommodate three hundred. We’ve waited and plotted for thirty years for this day."

"Why didn’t you just tell us?" Webb cried out.

"We did. The people we chose were like Cassandra. No one wanted to listen. So, we made our plans. We prepared you for this day; whispered ideas for movies, books, and mass culture. Prepared you for what you see here. Imagination is a wonderful thing, but do you think you had any basis for much of what you saw in movies for the past fifty years? Had we just brought you on board with no preparation, you would've sat and stared like apes before fire."

"So, you’ll save three hundred out of three billion?"

"Our ship. We’ve called all the Race’s ships to aid in the rescue. Still, it will be but a drop. Perhaps we can save five thousand from all over the world."

Doggett snorted. "Oh, good idea. Plunk five thousand people down in the middle of…where?"

Kim smiled sadly. "Just as all our ships cannot converge on this world at once, we cannot meet at one world. We will draw too much attention to ourselves and to our plan."

"Where, damn it!" Webb was fighting hard not to take the small woman and shake her, even though he knew better than to try.

"Where our captain can find. We’ve been doing this for many years. Taking people destined to die, people who wouldn’t be missed. Twenty planets, uninhabited by sentient life, are now home to earth’s refugees. Twenty upon twenty upon twenty are waiting. We have found that small groups of people known to each other, with similar if not exact belief systems, do best. It wouldn’t be good to place you on a world already seeded with established colonies."

"Why? You afraid we’ll not regress back to the stone age fast enough?" Webb spat out.

"No. We’ve found you’re a race of great discordance, Mr. Webb. When we try to introduce a new group to an established one, your alpha males vied for predominance to the detriment of the rest of the colony. Even within the confines of this ship, we will keep you separated. You must decide who else to bring. Who will make up this community of yours. You may choose thirty total; no more. We have ten cargo bays. When we reach our destination, each bay will be released on a different part of the planet."

"Thirty!" Monica gasped. "Just thirty?"

Kim nodded. "And you are limited to ten tons of supplies. Choose wisely." She smiled at Skinner. "It’s a small amount, I suppose; but you used up six tons with your suggestions the other night. We, of course, multiplied what was requested, so there’ll be enough for your entire colony."

"What discussion? Where?" Webb demanded.

Skinner took charge. "Very well," he said. "We’ll play this game – for the moment." He swore he heard her gentle laughter as she walked back into the dark.

"Look sir," Victor said, "I need to get back to my sisters and prepare for this invasion. I don’t want to be part of this."

"So, I assume you’d want them with you? If we make the decision to do this?" Skinner said.

"If we make the decision? Are you insane?" Webb shook his head. "We need to figure out a way to escape! You can’t believe they aren’t playing us! They want something from us. Some intel."

"Why?"

Webb sputtered, but couldn’t articulate his fear. He spread his hands helplessly, looked to Monica only to find her standing next to Doggett, but looking off into the dark, already waiting for Kate Pike to miraculously appear before them. "Fine! My mother!" He closed his eyes, desperate for another name, heartbroken that he knew so few left to save. "Tim Fawkes, if he’s even still alive."

Bobbi, who had finally calmed down enough to listen quietly and to watch for Kate’s reappearance, sighed. "I’ve got no one. My parents died in a car crash a year before the coup." She hugged Sturgis, fiercely. "You’re all I need. But what about your father?"

"My father." Sturgis agreed. "And the people from JAG. But then, I figure you’ve already included all of them on your list."

"As you and Miss Latham were on theirs," Skinner said softly.

"You really believe this nonsense, Monica?" Doggett demanded.

Monica stepped away from Doggett and reached out to Webb. "I don’t see that we have much choice." She waited for Webb to react. She was only surprised by his intensity as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "My folks are dead. I’ve got no one but the people in this room."

"God, what a pathetic group we are. Maybe we won’t be able to come up with even thirty." Webb looked up at Skinner. "Now, tell us about this party where you already discussed this."

Galindez barely listened as Skinner described Jessica Robert’s christening. He had to find a way out. He touched each panel he came to, finding more uniforms, what appeared to be berths, another sanitation booth. Another door swished back to reveal a lighted though empty box. "What the hell?"

"Please state your request more clearly," a male voice commanded. Victor jumped back and yelped, stilling the voices behind him.

"What have you got?" Skinner said as they joined him.

"Please state your request more clearly."

"Damn." Webb stood on Galindez’s other side.

"Please state your request more clearly."

Webb gulped but then tentatively asked, "Coffee?"

And just like it had on countless Star Trek episodes, a mug shimmered into view. They stared at it for a moment before Galindez took a deep breath and cautiously reached inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. "Remove your selection," the voice demanded.

"Oh, for God’s sake," Doggett said, and reached between Webb and Galindez. He pulled back the steaming cup and sniffed at it. "Smells like coffee."

"Do you have another selection?" the voice inquired.

"S-s-soup?" Bobbi’s voice quavered.

"More specific information is required."

Bobbi shuddered, but couldn’t say anything.

"Please state your request more clearly."

"Chicken noodle!" she shouted, and a bowl and spoon materialized.

"Scotch!" Webb said.

"Alcoholic stimulation is denied at this station."

"Of course it is." Webb glared at Skinner. "Put that on your list, Skinner – purely for medicinal purposes, of course."

"Do you require a medical formulary?" the voice inquired.

"Steak, rare," Doggett moved Webb out of the way and continued. "Baked potato with butter and sour cream, spinach and iced tea – unsweetened." He reached in and pulled out the large plate, glass and silverware. The rest just stood there for a moment, then hunger overcame the last of their hesitation.

They each ordered their favorite meal, and when they turned away from the food station, they found that tables with benches had appeared out of other panels in the walls. "Son of a bitch."

Mac opened the door to their apartment to find a wide-eyed Scully standing there. "What’s wrong?"

"We have to go! Something’s happening. People at the clinic are talking about increased activity: police raids, troop movements, mass arrests. I saw police cars all up and down the Beltway. They’re starting another sweep, and you know we’ll be next. You know they want Walter and AJ."

Mac reached for her coat, purse and cell phone. She started to punch in a number, but Scully’s hand covered hers. "I already tried him. His voice mail keeps picking up. I managed to reach AJ. He, Mulder and Rabb are going to meet us at the diner in Fredericksburg."

"I have to find Walter!"

"You know he can take care of himself." Scully began to tug at her. He’ll want you safe!"

They were halfway down the hallway when the elevator doors opened to disgorge three riot-geared Rangers, followed by a furious looking Brad Folmer. The women froze. He jabbed his finger at them. "I want to talk to you two! Where’s Skinner?" They didn’t even bother to look at each other. Instead, they turned back and ran down the hallway leading to the other apartments on the floor. "Stop them! Damn it! Don’t kill them – yet. I want to know where the others are."

"He doesn’t know where Walter is."

"Run!"

Bud Roberts was playing with his son as Porter Webb cooed over the baby. Harriet rested for a moment, watching what should’ve been an idyllic scene. All she could think of, though, was that everything was crashing down around them. She wondered if they’d live long enough to find a place to start over, like they’d talked about last night.

When they heard the knock at the front door, they all froze in place. "Daddy?" Little AJ looked at his father, expectantly. Harriet licked her lips, but stood before Bud could rise from the floor.

"Jason?" Harriet said in surprise. She cocked her head trying to figure out why he looked different. He still wore his Petty Officer’s uniform, but he looked older, calmer, even a little sad. "What’s wrong?"

"Hello, Harriet. May I come in?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry." She stepped back to let him in. As she did, she noticed several police cars crawl past the small house. "What are you doing here, Jason?"

He didn’t answer her. Instead he walked over and crouched down next to where little AJ was once again concentrating on his Lego structure.

"Tiner?" Bud looked at the JAG’s yeoman. "What?"

"Hello, AJ." Tiner ignored the adults.

"Hi, Jason!" Little AJ went back to his Legos.

"You remember what we talked about last night?"

"Yep!"

"Go and get it, okay?"

"Sure!" AJ ran off and Bud gripped Jason’s arm. "What are you doing here, and where did you send my son?" He was suddenly very frightened, and was determined to fight for his family and Mrs. Webb.

Tiner covered the hand gripping him. Bud grew more frightened as his hand began to burn. "It’s time to go, Mr. Roberts."

"I’m ready!" Little AJ ran out of his room, clutching the small suitcase he used to take on sleepovers, as well as the tattered Elmo that he’d slept with for as long as he could remember.

"I won’t let you hurt my baby!" Harriet rushed to her son.

"I’d never hurt any of you." Tiner closed his eyes and moved his lips silently, then they all disappeared just as a hail of bullets tore through the small house.

Mulder gazed out into the parking lot." I don’t like it."

Harm longed to reach out and take his hand, but they were already drawing unwanted attention.

AJ stood rigid by the window waiting for Dana’s jeep to appear. "Try again."

Rabb went through the numbers programmed in his phone. This was one of the reasons why everyone in the small diner was watching them in fear. Cell phones had been outlawed for all but the military and secret police.

"Shit!" Mulder rose from the table as a dozen police cars pulled into the parking lot. Everyone else dove under the tables or behind the counter. AJ started to reach for his service revolver – he never touched it.

The common area wasn’t really crowded, but now the lights fully illuminated the space. Tables stuck out from the walls. At one, the four Galindez sisters and Francesca Chegwidden were clutching each other’s hands, looking scared. Little AJ Roberts was at another table, showing Chloe Madison a drawing he’d made. Chloe’s father, Jake, was standing next to Harriet Roberts, who was clutching her daughter as she watched over her son. Everyone was listening to the others arguing.

"This is insane! This isn’t what we talked about last night." AJ was scared and furious. But, thank God, Dana was tight against his side; where, he vowed, she would remain.

Bud returned to the group after making a walk around the perimeter. "This is right out of Star Trek!"

"Which is why it’s utter bullshit!" Mulder said. "I mean; come on! Do you honestly think that aliens would have everything just like we expected it to look?" He saw Doggett and Skinner exchange a look. "What?"

"What I want to know, " Tim Fawkes, who looked like he’d aged ten years beyond his sixty, asked, "is why us? Why me?"

"Why you?" Jake Madison joined the group. "Why me?"

"Because we asked for you." Mac gripped Skinner’s hand so tight that he feared for his fingers. "These are the people we are most comfortable with, who we thought of immediately when they asked who we would bring."

"Dana?" Maggie Scully surveyed the crowd, looking for faces she didn’t see.

"Yes, Mom?" Dana knew what was coming, and was glad that AJ’s arm was around her shoulder. She’d thought long and hard about her choice. She’d acquiesced to Mulder’s desire for the Gunmen. Her brothers had both sided with the opposition, and Bill had even accepted the command at Pensacola, where some of the worst atrocities were taking place. She couldn’t choose them. Not when others were more deserving. Maggie stared at her, then turned away without asking. AJ hugged her tighter but didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.

Webb rubbed his hands over his face. He’d lost track of how long he’d been without sleep. It seemed like forever.

Melvin Frohike, as he so often did, took the job as spokesmen for the three Lone Gunmen. "Man, this is far out, but what are we going to do on this new planet? I mean we aren’t getting any computers or anything like that, right? We’re starting from scratch, right?"

"That’s right, guys." Mulder said. "You think you’re up for it?"

"Manual labor?" Langley whined. "Oh, man."

"Shut up. You want to die?" Byers said.

"Sir?" Rabb looked around. "Where’s my mother?"

Skinner sighed. Kim had taken him aside and explained that Rabb’s mother, along with Tom Boone, was dead. Mac touched his shoulder. "I’ll tell him. Come over here, Harm." As Mulder watched his lover’s shoulders slump and head hang, he was suddenly very glad that his own mother hadn’t lived to see this. He doubted that she would’ve been as complacent as Porter Webb seemed to be.

"Oh, my God!" Bobbi cried, and rushed to where Kate Pike stood, just inside one of the doors. No one had seen it open, or knew how long she’d stood there. Kate didn’t seem to notice anyone.

"Kate!" Harm was glad for something else to think about. He rushed towards her, too.

Kate allowed Bobbi to embrace her, but flinched away from Rabb. "What happened to you?" he demanded. "Bobbi said you were in the infirmary."

Kate moved closer to Bobbi. She lowered her eyes. "Tired. Please. They said I could sleep here." Kate shuddered. Too many men. " Please don’t hurt me," she whispered.

"Hurt you?" Rabb looked to Bobbi and saw the truth in her eyes. "Oh, God. I won’t hurt you. I promise, Kate. Sure. You want to lie down, there’s a berth over here."

Mac and Scully quickly joined them. "Come on, honey." The women led her to one of the open sleeping compartments, and Kate gratefully crawled inside. She curled up into a ball, facing away from everyone else, and didn’t even notice when the clear glass door encased her. She never realized that, when she fell asleep, it’d be a very long time before she awoke.

Before Rabb could demand details, Kim walked into their midst. Skinner looked around, briefly wondering how the hell she kept appearing. He could’ve sworn no hatch had opened. "You have questions?" she asked quietly.

AJ shook Jake Madison’s hand. The two looked at Chloe as she hugged Mac, then climbed into her sleeping compartment. "I don’t know what I did to deserve this, Admiral, but I won’t let you down. I’m just happy that Chloe has a chance to grow up free from those bastards."

"Well, Chief, with your farming background, we may all end up owing you our survival. You made some good suggestions for the list of supplies. See you on the other side."

Rabb and Mulder had waited until most of the newcomers had climbed into their pods. Once it was just Webb and Monica, Dana, her mother, AJ, Skinner and Mac, the two kissed briefly. "I don’t know that I can give you up once we get there." Rabb sighed.

"Why would you have to? We’ll figure out a way. Now climb into bed, lover. I just wish we could fit in there together." They turned around for one last look. The only people allowed company were the Roberts. Harriet slept with her daughter and little AJ clung to his father’s side. The two men climbed into their separate cubicles, settled in on their backs, and let the chamber prepare them for the journey.

"Mom! Please!" Dana was crying so hard she couldn’t see. AJ wanted to go to her, but he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known Maggie Scully well. They had dined together one Thanksgiving before the coup. Charlie Scully had treated him with respect, but Bill, though forced by convention and protocol to keep his opinions couched in the most formal of terms, had made it clear that he didn’t like Chegwidden as a person, or as a friend of his sister’s.

"Dana, honey, please. I don’t want to go. I want to be with Bill and Tara and the kids. Besides, they need me. You don’t. You have your friends. I don’t have to go."

Skinner stood with Mac, watching the scene play out. He’d known Maggie Scully for a long time. She was a strong woman, but he understood how she could feel so torn. She’d lost so much to the X-Files, and he knew she blamed Dana and the rest of them for so much of her loss. He wished he could help, but he shook his head and walked Mac to her chamber. "Kim said the baby will be fine." He touched her cheek, then leaned in for a long, slow kiss. "I wish we could sleep together."

She smiled sadly. "I don’t think this will fit us, but I wish it, too." She kissed him again, then climbed in. They looked into each other’s eyes as the cover lowered. He waited until she fell asleep. By the time he turned around, Dana was sobbing into AJ’s chest. Maggie was nowhere to be seen.

AJ picked Dana up and carried her to the chamber. Gently placing her inside, he leaned in and kissed her. "I’m sorry she won’t come with us, Dana. But, we’ve got the rest of these people to worry about. You know they’ll need you. I need you."

"And I need you, AJ Chegwidden. Did you think I would stay with her?" Dana cupped his cheek, then hiccupped. "Sorry. I love you. I just wish I could do my part, you know – the ‘be fruitful and multiply’ part."

"Hush. We’ll be fine. I love you, Dana Scully." He stepped back and let the door lower.

Monica clung briefly to Webb, then kissed him soundly. "This’ll be good for us, Clayton. We’ll be together."

He nodded, and kissed her again. "I’m not sure what good I’ll do. I hope there’ll be something like horses where we’re going."

"I do, too."

Webb waited until she was asleep, then quickly walked to his cubicle. Turning, he found that only Chegwidden and Skinner remained. Nodding his acceptance at their natural leadership, he saluted them both and climbed inside.

Skinner and AJ stood side by side, almost overcome by the enormity of what they were doing. "We aren’t prepared for this," AJ pointed out.

"I know. We must be nuts."

"It’s time, gentlemen." Both men turned to face Kim, only to find Tiner standing next to her.

"How did I ever think you were some wet-behind-the-ears kid?" AJ asked.

Tiner didn’t bother to answer. "When you wake, you’ll be on your new world. You’ll be on your own. We’ll have no further contact with you." Around them, huge crates began to appear. Each looked to be at least ten cubic feet. "The crates are our gifts to you. They can be part of your temporary shelters. You have much to accomplish, however, the success rate of these seedings has been more than many of us expected."

"How many of these settlements survive and merge to form a whole world, or at least some semblance of a country?" AJ still thought that this was some strange dream. But his eyes fell on the cubicle where his daughter slept. He turned slightly to watch Dana for a while. He prayed it wasn’t a dream, and that they could make this work.

"Normally, in a first generation, one or two groups on any one planet meet. Only in one case did a group set out to pull all the other groups on the landmass together. It was a resounding failure. Your kind seems to need a defined hierarchy, in whatever form, including several successful diarchies and triarchies." As if in answer, Skinner and Chegwidden grasped the other’s arm in an ancient show of friendship. There was no question that they were the alpha males of this group; there was also no question that the two would die to keep their group as safe as possible. Huge smiles split their faces as they both thought the same thing. «Top dogs on short leashes firmly held by strong women.»

"One last thing," Kim said. "During stasis, our medical staff will scan each person. We will correct defects such as heart disease, diabetes and other defects that you’d have no way of combating at this early stage of colonization. I believe one of the Galindez sisters expressed such a concern that she would die without her insulin."

Skinner gasped and looked at AJ, who gulped, but found the courage to ask. "Dana…"

Kim smiled brightly, "Her sterility?"

"Can you?"

"Of course."

And with that hope in his heart, AJ climbed into his cubicle, not next to her, but across the room, where he could see her face as he too succumbed to the chamber’s effect.

Skinner settled into his cell, next to Mac. He stared hard at Kim.

"She and your son will be fine, Walter." She turned away, but as the door closed, he heard, in his head, "You were a good boss, sir."

"Yeah, right!" he thought as he looked across the room. The ever-increasing number of crates hid most of the other cubicles. "We WILL do this."

"Of course, you will."

And they slept.

~~~~End Part 7~~~~

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