The Bill Scully Files 2: Seven Days in November

by Brandon

Bill jr returns to Washington & is caught up in another X-File.

TITLE: Seven Days in November
SPOILER WARNING: Hrmm. Thinking about it...Minor ones forAnasazi/The Blessing Way/Paperclip...canÕt think of anything else off-hand...apologiesin advance if I've forgotten something.
RATING: PG or PG-13, depending on your opinion of the "f" word. No hanky panky to upset Mrs. Grundy, but a fair number of PDA's.
CONTENT WARNING: ScullyAngst, both Bill, jr., and Dana. Also, not-too-graphic presentation of a patient in a psychiatric hospitalwho has been mistreated.
CLASSIFICATION: C,A; also M/S friendship; Crossover is with "SevenDays in May" by Fletcher Knebel and Charles W. Bailey II. This storystands on its own, however; you don't have to have read the book to "getit".

The book was also made into a damned fine film, written by Rod Serling,starring Kirk Douglas, Burt Lancaster and Fredric March; there was a remakeon HBO in the early 90s called "The Enemy Within", which wasnÕt nearlyas good, but which was watchable. Oh, and if you DO happen to beas much in love with this source material as I am, be ye warned that Ihave taken some liberties with Knebel and Bailey's plot and characters.

SUMMARY: The second in an apparently continuing series as I attemptto salvage Bill Scully, jr's poor, pathetic soul. (The first wasINSURMOUNTABLE OPPORTUNITIES, butyou don't have to have read that piece to enjoy this one. Of course,you OUGHT to read IO, as it is exceptionally cool. It will show upon gossamer eventually, or you can drop me a line and I'll email it toyou.) In this story, Bill makes another visit to Washington, andgets caught up in another X-File -- but this time the investigation mayhave profound consequences for the future of the United States....

Well, that's enough crap; let's get on with the good stuff...

SEVEN DAYS IN NOVEMBER

by Brandon D. Ray

SATURDAY

Bill Scully was tired, and his joints hurt.

I'm getting old,>> he thought. MATS flights neverused to bother me like this.>> But somehow spending six or eighthours jammed into a C-141 with a couple hundred Marines who clearly didn'tappreciate his presence, wearing those little yellow foam-rubber plugsto protect his ears from the roar of the jet engines, just wasn't as muchFUN as it had been when he was 25. And the constant shaking, jarringand jouncing as the huge military cargo plane plowed its way through thelate afternoon sky hadn't helped matters any. For the hundredth timesince receiving his orders on Friday afternoon, Bill wondered why the Navyhad refused to pop for a regular airline ticket.

Oh, well,>> he reflected, also for the hundredth time. Mine not to reason why; mine but to do and die.>>

Now he was limping through Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport,his duffel slung over his shoulder. As he moved along the concourse,he felt his muscles start to unkink, and his stride gradually became morenatural.

Wish I'd been able to get hold of Dana,>> he thought. He'd tried calling several times last night, and twice again that morning,but to no avail. He passed a rank of pay phones, and briefly consideredtrying again now, but decided against it. She'd just feel obligatedto drive out and pick him up, he reasoned. Better just to jump onthe Metro or grab a taxi.

Twenty minutes later, Bill found himself standing outside his sister'sapartment, knocking for the third time. Hell's bells,>> hethought. It hadn't occurred to him that she still wouldn't be home. She did do a lot of traveling for her job -- maybe she was off somewhereon an assignment.

Bill fished in his pocket and brought out his keyring. The keyto Dana's apartment, which Fox Mulder had given to him two months before,on Bill's last visit to Washington, glinted at him suggestively. Dana really wouldn't mind,>> he told himself, and he inserted thekey in the lock and let himself in.

The first thing he noticed as he stepped across the threshold was thesound of the shower running; seconds later his nose informed him of wonderfulsmells drifting in from the kitchen, and his stomach reminded him of exactlyhow long it had been since breakfast. So she was here after all. Bill was relieved; he'd felt vaguely guilty about letting himself in. It somehow reminded him of the time he had found and read Dana's diary,back when she was 13 or 14. He'd made the mistake of trying to blackmailher with it, and she'd gone straight to their father....

This isn't like that,>> he reassured himself, unconsciouslyrubbing his buttocks at the memory of his father's ire, and wandering throughthe apartment more or less at random. We're both adults now,and I wouldn't dream of invading her privacy.>>

Then he saw the dining table.

Rapidly, his eyes flicked over the arrangements: Linen table cloth,Waterford crystal, the antique china that used to sit in his mother's displaycase when he was a boy, gleaming silverware that looked like it might actuallyBE silver, two unlit candles.... Candlelight dinner,>> hethought, feeling his face start to redden. For two. Dana's expecting company -- and I'll just bet it's not me!>> Theonly things that didn't really fit into the equation were the two bottlesof root beer peeking out of the ice bucket.

Root beer?>>

At that moment, the sound of the shower stopped. I thinkI need to be elsewhere,>> Bill thought, and moved hurriedly back to thedoor. Scooping up his duffel, he was reaching for the doorknob whenhe heard a key in the lock. Instinctively, he took a step back asthe door swung open.

It was Fox Mulder.

Mulder looked as startled as Bill felt. The two men stood stockstill, staring at each other, for several seconds. Then Mulder grinnedhis patented irritating grin and stuck out his hand.

"Hi, Bill!" he said cheerfully. "Fancy meeting you here. Long time no sea, as Lewis said to Clarke."

Numbly, Bill shook the FBI man's hand, and watched as Mulder shut thedoor and moved past him into the apartment.

Mulder was dressed to the nines, Bill couldn't help noticing: Dark suit, snow white dress shirt, and his shoes looked as if they hadbeen spit-shined. Bill hadn't seen their like since his Academy days. The only thing spoiling the effect was the necktie, which made Bill wishfor a volume control.

"I must say I didn't expect you to be here, Bill," Mulder continued,walking into the kitchen. Bill heard the refrigerator door open andclose, and then Mulder reappeared, a bottle of Rolling Rock in his hand. "Dana didn't mention that you were coming into town again," he continuedas he twisted off the bottle cap and sank down on the sofa.

"Uh, she didn't know I was coming," Bill replied. "*I* didn'tknow I was coming until yesterday afternoon." His eyes shifted tothe table setting, and Mulder followed his gaze.

"Well, that would explain it," Mulder said lazily, and he looked backat Bill, pinning him with his gaze like a butterfly on a display card.

Some seconds went by as Bill tried to think of something to say. Several alternatives flashed through his mind, but none of them seemedto be quite...appropriate.

"Mulder?" Dana's voice drifted into the room from down the hallway. "Mulder, I heard you come in." Her voice was coming closer. "I wonder if you could do me a favor. I forgot to get urk." She stopped in mid-sentence as she stepped into the living room and sawher brother standing there. She was dressed in a white terryclothbathrobe which didn't cover her nearly well enough for Bill's taste, underthe circumstances, and she had a towel wrapped around her still-wet hair. She now stood stock still, her eyes shifting back and forth between herpartner and her brother.

"Hi, Scully!" Mulder was the first to recover. "You should havetold me you were planning a menage a trois. I'd have brought extracondoms."

Bill stared at Mulder in disbelief. He hadn't actually said that,had he? But from the look of disgust on Dana's face -- which Billfound infinitely reassuring -- it was clear that she had heard it, too.

"Not funny, Mulder," she said. "Not even a little bit." She glared at the man on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Scully," Mulder said, putting on a face that made him lookalarmingly like a whipped puppy. "Forgive me?"

Rather amazingly, the ploy worked. Dana's face softened, and shesaid, "It's okay." She walked over to the sofa and ruffled Mulder'shair. Then she seemed to remember that her brother was there andturned back to face Bill. With an artificial air of nonchalance,she said, "So. Bill. What brings you to...here?" As ifhe lived in the neighborhood and had just happened to drop by of a Saturdayevening.

"Work," he said, desperately trying to find his way out of the situation. "I, uh, I have meetings at the Pentagon starting Monday, and for some reasonthey saw fit to send me out on a MATS with a bunch of jarheads." The words seemed to tumble together in his mouth. "I was hoping..."His eyes flicked to that dinner table again, and once more he felt hisface growing red. "Look," he said. "It's pretty obvious I'veintruded. I'll just get out of here, and find a room at HoJo's orsomething. I'll call you in the morning." And he turned toleave.

"Wait, Bill." Dana caught up with him in the hallway. "Don'tgo; of course you can stay here. Mulder and I were just going tohave dinner and watch a movie; no big deal. Come on inside." If she offers to set another place, I'm going to run,>> Bill thought. My legs are longer than hers; she'll never catch me.>> Buthe let himself be led back inside.

Mulder was still sprawled on the sofa; he now had his shoes off andhis feet up on the coffee table, and he was watching the scene betweenbrother and sister with great amusement evident on his face. "Sure,Bill," he agreed, affecting a down-home hick accent. "Come on inand set a spell."

Dana looked from one man to the other, and Bill thought he detecteda faint look of panic in her eyes. This is a really bad idea,>>he thought. Even if the evening agenda is as innocent asshe claims, I'm still in the way.>> He cleared his throat. "Look, Dana...I really don't think I should be here. I --"

"Nonsense," she said, stepping forward and prying his duffel out ofhis hands. As she did so, he noticed with embarrassment that he hadbeen holding it in front of his body, as if to ward off a blow. "Youare always more than welcome here; you know that." She turned awayfirmly and carried his duffel down the hallway towards the guest bedroom.

Bill followed after her. "Look," he said quietly once they werealone in the guest room. "You don't have to do this. I reallycan find someplace else to stay, and I really don't want to interfere with..." He waved his hands helplessly. "Things."

She stood and looked at him for a moment, her face an expressionlessmask, and he knew he was in trouble. Then she turned away and placedhis duffel in the corner next to the bureau and started turning down thebedclothes. "You are welcome to stay here," she said. You arewelcome to go to a motel. Whichever choice you make, it will makeabsolutely no difference in what goes on in this apartment this evening." She turned to face him, the mask still in place. "If you do decideto stay, you are also welcome to join us for dinner."

Bill gulped, and closed his eyes, then forced them open again. She'd gotten a lot better at this than she had been at 14. "I ateon the plane," he lied. "And...and I am very tired," he added truthfully. "It was a long, bumpy ride. If it's all the same to you, I thinkI'll just go to bed."

"That would be fine," she said calmly, and went to the door. Asshe pulled it open, Mulder's voice drifted down the hallway.

"Hey, Scully. What movie do you want to watch tonight? Iwas thinking maybe DEEP THROAT, but I know you're partial to Johnny Wad."

Bill saw her shoulders tense slightly. "I'll kill him," she muttered,and walked on out the door, and into her own room.

Bill shut the door to his room and sagged against it wearily. This is not going to be a good week,>> he thought. Butat this point I think leaving would be worse.>> Sighing, he stoodup, and crossed over to the bed. He really was exhausted. Hekicked off his shoes and quickly stripped down to his shorts, then stretchedout on the mattress and pulled the covers up. Despite the emotionalturmoil he was in, and despite the gnawing hunger in his belly, it wasonly a matter of a few minutes before he was sound asleep.

SUNDAY

Bill Scully awoke in the pre-dawn darkness, feeling remarkably restedand refreshed. Turning over in bed, he felt a familiar, friendlyurge rising in his loins; sleepily, he reached across the bed, trying tofind his wife.

She wasn't there.

Groggily, he sat up and looked around. Right. He wasn'tin San Diego; he was in Washington. At Dana's. He picked upthe alarm clock and squinted at its glowing face: Five minutes afterseven. Be damned,>> he thought. I slept theclock around. Haven't done that in a long time.>>

He swung his feet around and stood up, then groped along the wall untilhe found the light switch. Blinking owlishly at the sudden illumination,he looked around and spotted his duffel in the corner where Dana had leftit.

Dana. Really screwed the pooch last night, didn't you,William,>> he thought, climbing into a pair of sweat pants and pullinga t-shirt on over his head. Well, plenty of time to make it up toher; he'd be here all week, after all.

Stepping out into the hallway, he saw that his sister's door was stillclosed. Probably had a late night,>> he thought, then wincedat the image that thought brought to mind. Bad, Captain Scully!>>he chastised himself. Down! Back! Sit! She may be your sister, but she's also a grown woman, and she no longerneeds your protection -- if she ever did.>>

He had a sudden vivid recollection of a young man abruptly leaving theScully home, his shoulders hunched and his hands clutched protectivelyabout his private anatomy, while 16 year old Dana stood by and announcedsorrowfully that Reggie had "taken ill" and had to go home. The memorymade Bill feel better, and he padded down the hall towards the living room,thinking that he'd make breakfast as a sort of peace offering.

As he emerged from the hallway, he realized that the TV was still playing,the volume turned low. Frowning, he stepped around the sofa, intendingto turn it off -- and almost tripped over his sister's feet.

Bill raised his eyebrows and backed up carefully. Dana was curledup on the floor, sound asleep. Fox Mulder was there, too, also asleep,sprawled in a spread-eagle half on and half off the sofa. They wereboth still wearing their dress clothes from the night before, which wasat least some consolation, but Dana's head was lying on Mulder's -- well,"lap" was the polite term, Bill supposed. The whole tableau lookedextremely...intimate.

His first impulse was to drag Mulder off the sofa and throw him outinto the hallway, but he suppressed it. Not my business,>>he reminded himself. Remember how much trouble you got intolast night. Let's not make it any worse.>>

He turned and went back down the hall to take a shower, deliberatelyleaving the bathroom door open so the sound would carry.

Twenty five minutes later, he emerged, to the smell of cooking bacon. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't had anything to eat,aside from a few Fig Newtons on the plane, for nearly 24 hours. Heducked into the guest room, pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, andthen followed the smells down the hall.

Dana was in the kitchen, working with a frying pan; Mulder was nowhereto be seen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Dana said, smiling. The tight-lippedanger of the night before seemed to be gone. Good.

"Good morning," he replied. "Mmm. Smells good. Beenup long?"

"A while," she replied.

"Where's Mulder?" Bill wanted to bite his tongue out of his head,but the words were already out there, hanging almost visibly in the airbetween them. Maybe I should buy a muzzle,>> he thought indisgust.

Dana glanced at him, her face expressionless, and Bill steeled himselffor the explosion. But all she said was, "He had to leave."

"Oh." Bill cast about, trying to find something to say to that,but came up empty.

"Bacon's ready," Dana said.

The meal passed in silence. Dana sat watching him from acrossthe table, sipping at a cup of coffee and nibbling on a piece of toast,while Bill had a somewhat more lavish breakfast. Finally, he pushedback his chair, leaned back and stretched. "Good grub, Dana," hesaid, invoking the ritual their parents had used at the end of every meal.

She didn't laugh at his witticism. Instead: "Thanks," shesaid. Then the bombshell: "Do you think I'm ready to be a wifeyet?"

Bill froze in mid-stretch, and stared at his sister. "W-what --"

"It was a simple question," she said calmly. "Do you think I'mready to be a wife?"

Bill continued to stare at her. She sat on the other side of thetable, hands folded in her lap, a serene expression on her face. "Why...why do you ask?" he managed to stutter out.

"To see what you will say," she replied. "I value your opinion."

She wasn't giving anything away. Carefully, he searched her face,looking for some clue, but there was nothing there. He couldn't tellif she was putting him on, or was utterly serious.

"You're joking," he said tentatively.

Silently, her face still expressionless, she started gathering up thedirty dishes.

"Wrong answer, huh," he said.

Dana didn't respond, but carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen. Bill had just decided to go after her when she came back out and sat downacross the table from him again. He sat in silence, knowing thatshe would talk to him again when she was ready.

"We need to have this out, Bill," she said at last. "There aresome things you have to understand." She seemed to think about thatfor a moment, then amended her second statement. "There are somethings that I NEED for you to understand."

Bill nodded, but didn't say anything.

"First and foremost," she went on, "who I spend my time with, and whatI do with them, is not your concern." He started to agree with theflat statement, but she cut him off. "More specifically, whetheror not I am sleeping with Fox Mulder is none of your god damned business." And she sat back in her chair and watched him.

"I can accept that," he said at last, grudgingly. "And...I'm sorry. I was...out of line last night."

But she apparently wasn't going to let him off that easily. "Lastnight," she said in measured tones, "you were a horse's ass. EvenMulder spotted it, and he's not the most sensitive person in the world. You humiliated me, and I do not appreciate it."

"Mulder was --" he started to object, but she cut him off again.

"I have spoken to Mulder, and again, what we said on the matter, andwhat we may or may not have done last night, is none of your business. Right now, at this moment, this is about you and me."

Bill sat in silence for a moment; then he nodded reluctantly. "I can accept that, too," he said quietly.

"Good." She looked him square in the eye, and he braced himselffor another barrage. "Now the second thing you have to know," shesaid, "is that I love you very much." And again, she sat back andwatched him, waiting for a response.

"I...I love you, too, Dana," he replied at last.

She slowly exhaled, and Bill realized that he had been holding his breath,as well. "That's the first sensible thing you've said since you gothere," she said.

There was only one answer he could give to that, much as it galled himto admit it. "I believe you may be right," he said.

Dana actually smiled. "Trust me on this one," she said, standingup again. She glanced at her watch. "Now that that's settled,let me get at the dishes. If you're willing to dry while I wash,I think we can get them done and still make 10:30 Mass. Then, ifyou're up for it, Mother has invited us to lunch."

Bill smiled in return, and stood up, and for a moment brother and sisterfaced each other again over the breakfast table. "Church, Dana?"he asked.

"That's right," she said. "I've been...thinking things over, thelast year or so. I've found church to be very helpful." Andshe turned and led him into the kitchen, to face the dirty dishes.

# # #

The drive out to their mother's house was quiet, brother and sistereach lost in their own thoughts. At first Bill found it restful,but shortly he started to feel uncomfortable.

Church had been pleasant, but had failed to provide the distractionhe had been hoping for, and which past experience had led him to expect. He had found it difficult to focus on the sermon, and twice he had fumbledon responses which he had had committed to memory since he was a boy. Now he sat in the passenger seat of Dana's car, and despite his implicitpromise to her, he found himself brooding about her relationship with herpartner.

His gaze fell on his sister. I wonder what she's thinkingabout?>> The question came unbidden to his mind. Her face seemedso calm and serene, and under her breath she was humming a little tunewhich was maddeningly familiar, but which he couldn't quite place.

He shook his head. How can she be so happy?>> he wondered. Not that he begrudged her that happiness, but she'd been through so muchin the past few years -- and those were only the things he knew about. He had a strong suspicion that there had been other trials in her life,things of which Bill had no knowledge. But there she sat, hummingto herself, a faint smile on her lips as her imagination took her...somewhere.

Is THAT what's really bothering me?>> he wondered suddenly. Is it really just that she has private joys and sorrows which shehasn't shared with me, and so I feel shut out? Could it really bethat I'm that selfish?>> He hadn't considered that possibility before,and now he turned it over in his mind uneasily. If Dana was happywith her life, who was he to second guess her? More specifically,>>he thought, unconsciously echoing in his mind her words over breakfast,if she is happy with her relationship with Mulder -- whatever thatrelationship may consist of -- why is that so upsetting to me? Shouldn't I be HAPPY for her, if she has finally found a man who fulfillsher, the way Tara fulfills me?>>

At length, they arrived at their mother's home, and both Bill and Danaturned outward again. Lunch was served, and for an hour the threeof them sat together over fried chicken, mashed potatoes and hot homemadebread. There was one interruption which marred the occasion, however: Part way through the main course, Dana's cell phone beeped.

With a sigh of annoyance, and a briefly murmured "excuse me", Dana tookthe instrument from her jacket pocket, turned half away and punched a buttonon the phone. Bill tried not to listen, but found that he couldn'thelp himself.

"Scully." A brief pause. "Oh, hi. Look, this is nota good time -- What?" She listened for a moment. "Yes, thoseresults should be back by now, but can't it wait until morning?" Another pause. "No. No, I am not going to -- Mulder, I am havinglunch with Bill and my mother; we're about to have dessert." Herface reddened, and she glanced at Bill in apparent embarrassment. "No, I will not tell him that." Yet another pause, longer than theothers. Finally, she said, "Are you attempting to bribe a federalofficial?...Well, then you're going to have to offer me something betterthan that." A smile crept across her face as she listened to theresponse. "Chocolate." Pause. "Two boxes, Mulder...No,TWO boxes. And GOOD chocolate, not Hershey bars, like the last time....Okay,I'll call you right back." And she hit the disconnect button on herphone.

Looking at Mrs. Scully, and then at Bill, Dana said, "I'm sorry; thiswill just take a moment." And she punched one of the speed dialson her cell phone. After a moment, she frowned. "That's funny,"she muttered. She hit disconnect, then tried the speed dial again. She shook her head. "Weird." Then she tried a different speeddial.

"Mulder, it's me," she said. "Look, first of all, you still oweme those chocolate bars, because I did try." She listened for a moment. "No, I wasn't able to get through....Yes, I do believe the tests must becomplete, but when I dialed the number all I got was a 'not in service'recording....Yes, I know that it's unusual --" She rolled her eyesin exasperation, and shook her head. "No, Mulder....No, I am NOTgoing to drive down to Quantico just to satisfy your curiosity....No, noteven for FOUR boxes....No, I said 'no' and I meant 'no'." Her lipsquirked into an almost-smile. "No, there is NOT 'yes-yes' in my eyes....Mulder,I have to go. I'll see you in the morning." And without waitingfor a reply she hit the disconnect button.

"Sorry about that," she said, and after a moment of embarrassed silence-- at least, Bill was embarrassed -- they returned to their meal, and totheir conversation.

Bill was pleased at the opportunity to spend time with his mother, whomhe hadn't seen since her visit to San Diego the previous Christmas. They traded stories, brought each other up to date, and Bill passed aroundpictures of the new grandchild, and everything felt warm, comforting andfamiliar. After the meal, Dana announced that she was tired, havinghad a short night, and went off to her old room to lie down for awhile,leaving Bill and his mother alone.

"She's looking a lot better," Bill remarked as he helped his mothergather up the dirty dishes and carry them into the kitchen. Settingthe pile of plates down, he turned and leaned up against the counter whileshe set about filling the sink with hot water. "She seems to be makinga strong recovery."

Mrs. Scully nodded. "The Scully women have always been fighters,Bill. Remember your Grandma Scully? She was a tough one."

"She certainly was." Automatically, he stepped forward and tooka dishtowel off its hook, and prepared to start drying. "I've been...havingsome problems," he said, changing the subject. "And I was wonderingif I could try to talk them out with you."

She glanced at him and smiled as she handed him the first of their luncheonplates for drying. "Of course, Bill. What's a mother for?"

"Well, this one's kind of difficult," he said. Not sure how tobegin, he concentrated on drying the plate she had handed him, and thenput it away in the cabinet and turned to take the next one from her, thinkingabout it. She seemed content to let him take his time. Finally,he said, "Actually, it's about Dana."

Mrs. Scully nodded. "I thought it might be."

Bill raised his eyebrows, and gave a little chuckle. "Telepathy,Mother?"

She smiled back at him. "Of course. It's something theyissue to new mothers before they let us go home from the hospital. Didn't Tara get hers?"

"If she did, she didn't tell ME about it," he joked, and then turnedserious again. "Mother, I don't know if it's quite right -- or fair-- to say that the problem is about Dana. It's actually more aboutmy relationship with Dana."

She nodded again. "I know. I could tell from the way youtwo were looking at each other over lunch."

"I just don't get it!" he burst out. "I mean, I love her verymuch -- I always have, and I always will. But the last few yearsshe's seemed to pull away from me. She's gotten strange, distant. I don't understand what's going on; I don't know what's happening in herlife. And that scares me." Bill was shocked at his own admission,but his mother seemed to take it in stride.

"I've often thought that it must be very hard to be a man, and havea younger sister," she mused. "There are so many duties piled uponmen, and they often seem to conflict with one another. Among themore important duties is to look out for your younger siblings, especiallythe girls. Your father and I tended to stress that one to you andCharlie, and we thought that we were doing the right thing at the time. But times have changed; women are more independent now. Times havechanged." There was a note of sadness in her voice.

"Yes, I know about that," Bill replied. "But that's only partof it. Dana really has gotten strange, Mother. Maybe you don'tnotice it as much, because you're around her more often. But froma distance, and only seeing her a couple times a year, it really sticksout."

"Oh, I've noticed," Mrs. Scully said. "Believe me, I've noticed. But you have to understand, Bill, that Dana has been through an awfullylot. More than the cancer scare, and more than losing Dad and Missy-- and certainly those things were hard on the entire family -- Dana hasbeen through some very difficult life experiences."

"It's because of her job!" Bill declared in an accusatory tone. "It's because of her job, and that guy she works with." He couldn'tbring himself to utter Mulder's name.

"Fox Mulder is a decent, honorable man," his mother responded quietly. "He really cares very deeply about your sister, Bill, I truly believe that. I also believe that he would do almost anything to protect her. Youhaven't been around them very much when they're together, but I have, andI've watched them. There is a bond between them that is practicallyunbreakable. I know married couples who are less devoted to eachother -- and less intimate." She looked at her son obliquely. "But I suspect that this is another thing that is bothering you."

Bill shifted his weight uncomfortably. "You really know how tocut to the heart of the matter," he murmured.

She laughed. "I wouldn't be much of a mother if I couldn't," sheremarked.

"Mother, are they sleeping together?" He felt an agony in hischest, and a sudden intuition of what a heart attack must feel like. This was the question he had been leading up to, he suddenly realized. This is what he needed to know. He knew it was a terrible invasionof his sister's privacy, and that he was possibly asking his mother tobetray a very basic confidence. But he had to know. He hadto.

She paused for a long minute, thinking it over while she washed outa glass and handed it to him. Finally, she said, "I don't know, Bill. I have wondered about that -- I wouldn't be human if I hadn't, even thoughwe both know that it is a private matter." She looked at him directly,and the love in her eyes took the sting out of her next sentence: "May I ask what you would do with the information if you found out thatthey WERE sleeping together?"

"I don't know," he muttered miserably. "I don't know. Ijust know that I need...something. Some reassurance, some confidencethat Dana is okay. That she is going to be okay."

"I think you can depend on that, Bill," Mrs. Scully said softly. "Your sister will always be okay."

And later that night, as Bill was falling asleep in Dana's guest bedroom,he suddenly remembered where he'd heard the tune she'd been humming inthe car. He hadn't heard it since he was a little boy, but it hadbeen so beautiful, and the words had seemed so true, that it had burneditself into his brain. He hadn't thought about that song in morethan thirty years, but he could still remember those words:

"A dream is a wish your heart makes, when it's fast asleep..."

# # #

MONDAY

Bill Scully had never been to Dana's office before, and so of coursehe got lost. The J. Edgar Hoover Building seemed like a rabbit warren,with phones ringing, people bustling back and forth and a confusing welterof signs directing him to various departments and divisions. Unfortunately,none of the signs said, "This way to the ghoulies and ghosties and thingsthat go bump in the night."

Finally, in desperation, he flagged somebody down. Feeling uncomfortableand out of place in his Class A uniform, he asked, "Excuse me. Couldyou please direct me to the office of Special Agent Dana Scully?"

The man stopped and looked him up and down. His lips quirked. "Dana Scully? Mrs. Spooky?" With amusement in his eyes, heturned and pointed back along the hall, the way Bill had come. "Downthe end of the hall, turn left, and take the first elevator you come todown to the basement. Then just follow the mysterious lights," hefinished, wiggling his fingers in the air. "You can't miss it." And he turned and walked away, chortling at his own witticism.

Bill wanted to smash his face in but he suppressed the urge. Momentslater, he stepped off the elevator into a basement hallway, and startedwalking down it. The third door on the left was standing open, andhe heard Dana's voice coming from inside.

"So what did Frohike want?" she was saying as Bill stepped across thethreshold. She was seated at a desk with her back to the door. Several neat stacks of paper sat on the desk, as well as a computer console,a multi-line telephone, and an open box of Lady Godiva chocolates. As he watched, Dana took a piece of candy from the box and popped it intoher mouth.

"What does Frohike ever want?" Mulder replied. He was seated atanother desk, this one facing towards the entry way. His eyes flickeredas he saw Bill in the doorway, and he added, "Your body, of course."

Dana sighed theatrically. "When will he understand that I onlyhave eyes for you, Mulder?" she said, and popped another chocolate intoher mouth.

"Well, you have to admit it can be a bit of a burden, Scully," Muldersaid. "You really wear me out sometimes. I wouldn't mind havinga night off every now and then." Dana snorted, and Mulder shiftedhis gaze back to Bill again. "Hi, Bill!" he added cheerily, and gavea little wave.

Dana spun around in her swivel chair, and her eyes widened as she sawher brother standing there. "Bill," she said faintly. "I wasn'texpecting..." Her voice trailed off and she turned back to Mulder. In an accusatory tone, she said, "How long has he been standing there?"

Mulder's eyes were dancing. "Long enough," he admitted.

She shook her head. "Well just for that, you aren't going to getany of my candy." And she put the lid back on her box of chocolateand slid the box into a desk drawer. "And don't think for a minutethat I don't know exactly how many are left."

"Aw, Scully..."

Throughout this exchange, Bill had been standing stock still in thedoorway, his mind working furiously. Now how in the hellam I supposed to react to this?>> he wondered. He was almost certainfrom their tones that it was all a gag -- but this was a sensitive subject,and he had a strong intuition that if his sister perceived him to be invadingher privacy again, she was going to rip his ears off and feed them to him.

Now she was rising to her feet and turning to face him. Thinkfast, Bill,>> he thought. You're about to be in the spotlight.>>

"Bill," she said, spots of color visible on her cheecks. "I'msorry." She gestured towards Mulder with her head. "My partnercan be a real jerk at times. Sometimes I wonder why I put up withhim."

"That's okay," Bill said, putting on what he hoped was a self-deprecatorygrin. "I've known that he was a jerk for a long time. Afterall, we were initiated at the same meeting." Dana snorted again,and Bill decided to quit while he was ahead.

"Speaking of meetings," he said, "my afternoon session has been canceled. Don't know why -- they certainly flew enough brass in to attend it. But apparently there's been some sort of snafu down at Quantico, and nowthe whole Navy Department is in an uproar, and I'm at loose ends. So," he finished, "I thought I'd stop by and see if you were free for lunch."

"Quantico?" Dana said, and glanced at Mulder. "Well that explainsit then," she told her partner. Turning back to her brother, shesaid, "We've been trying to call Quantico all morning. Yesterdaywe just got a recorded message claiming that the number wasn't in service;today we've been getting a military operator who can't seem to put us throughto any Bureau personnel." She shrugged. "But if there's beena problem at the base, it may have affected the phone system." Danastood up and turned back to Mulder. "Anyway, I'm sure it will befixed soon. Would you mind terribly if I went to lunch with Bill? Since he happens to be free?"

"Well..." Mulder gave his annoying, lazy grin. "I'LL be okay,but Frohike is going to be devastated. He just called to invite usto lunch, himself. Philly cheese steaks with all the trimmings." Mulder made a lipsmacking sound. "Mmm-mm. He also said he hassome new data he wants to show us from the DoD message traffic analysishe's been working on."

"Well, I guess he'll have to struggle along without me," Dana said,picking up her purse and moving over to the coat tree.

Bill raised his eyebrows. "The FBI monitors the DoD's comnet?"he asked curiously.

Dana hesitated, glanced quickly at Mulder, then back at Bill, and replied,"Sort of. It's still in the experimental stages. It's a...counterespionageinitiative, and we're really not supposed to be talking about it." She glared at Mulder, who just smiled and shrugged. Slipping on hercoat, Dana walked over to her brother. "Shall we go?"

They had a long, leisurely lunch. All of the tensions of the lasttwo days seemed to drain away as brother and sister chatted companionablyover soup and sandwiches. The only thing bothering Bill was Mulder'sremark about the DoD traffic analysis. Something about it didn'tsound quite kosher to him; on the other hand, he knew that the FBI didhave some counterintelligence responsibilities, and if it really WAS somesort of classified project of that nature, he shouldn't be sticking hisnose into it at all.

Finally, he decided he would have to ask. He took a sip of water,cleared his throat, and said, "Dana? What was Mulder talking about,back in your office? About the traffic analysis? And who isFrohike?"

Dana looked at him for a moment while she chewed a bite of her sandwich,and seemed to be considering what to say. Finally, she swallowed,and said, "Well, that's a complicated question. I can see why youwould be concerned, but it really isn't something I'm free to talk about. Mulder shouldn't have mentioned it in your presence, either."

Bill studied her face for a moment. He had had enough involvementwith classified matters, himself, that he knew there was validity in whatshe was saying. There had been times when he was privy to secretswhich he had not been free to share with anyone, not even his wife. He didn't think Dana's work normally involved national security issues,but he didn't know for a fact that it didn't -- which left him with thechoice of either trusting his sister or not. He nodded slowly. "Okay," he said at last. "I guess that's fair enough. You dounderstand my concern, though?"

She nodded, and seemed to be relieved. "Absolutely. If Iwere in your shoes, I'm sure I'd feel the same way." She glancedat her watch. "Heavens, look at the time; I've got to be gettingback, or Mulder will think I was hit by a truck."

They walked back to FBI Headquarters in silence. It was mid-November,and the first snow of the year had started to fall. When they reachedthe building, Dana turned to face him. "Want to walk me inside?"

Bill shook his head. "No; I think I'd just as soon take a walkon the Mall. It's been too long."

Dana nodded, and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then she said,"Bill?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for not pressing me on that other matter. I promiseyou, everything really is...all right. I just can't talk about it."

He nodded. "I understand."

"You're a good brother," she said, and she raised up on her tiptoesto give him a quick peck on his cheek, and was gone.

# # #

Bill Scully awoke to the sound of a ringing telephone. Blearily,he sat up and looked around. Dana's sofa. He had fallen asleepon Dana's sofa. Outside, night had fallen, and on the televisiona football game was in progress. That's right,>> he remembered. He'd come back to the apartment to find that she hadn't come home yet. He'd puttered around for awhile, then finally fixed himself something toeat and stretched out on the sofa to watch Monday Night Football.

The phone rang again. Bill shook his head to clear it, then leanedover and grabbed the receiver. "Hello? This is Dana Scully'sresidence."

"Bill, this is Dana," his sister's voice said without preamble, andimmediately he snapped to full wakefulness. Her voice sounded tense,on edge. "I need your help with something, and I need it now."

"Well...of, of course," he stuttered. "What is it?"

"I can't explain it on the phone," she replied. "Look, someonewill be by to pick you up in -- how long?" The last two words wereapparently directed to someone else. "In twenty minutes," she said. "Look for a blue Chevy. In twenty minutes," she repeated.

"Twenty minutes," Bill said, confused. "Dana, what's this allabout? What's going on?"

She paused. Then: "Bill, I CAN'T go into it on the phone. It wouldn't be...prudent. I'll see you soon." And she hungup.

Now what in the hell is THAT all about?>> he wondered, scratchinghis head. That has got to be one of the stranger phone calls....>> He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes. He'd better get moving.

A short while later, having changed his clothes and bundled up againstthe cold, he stepped out on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. The blue Chevy she had mentioned was already waiting, its engine idling. Bill started to climb in the passenger side, but the driver jerked histhumb over his shoulder. Bill caught a quick glimpse of glasses glintingin the street light, but otherwise the driver's face was lost in shadows.

"Captain Scully," the man said, "I'm going to have to ask that you getin back and lie down on the seat." His tone was apologetic. "It's for your own protection."

In for a penny, in a for a pound,>> Bill thought, and followedthe man's instructions. As he lay down and curled his legs up, hefelt the car start to move.

"If this were anybody but Dana, I'd think it was a practical joke,"Bill said, hoping to draw the driver into conversation.

"Believe me, Captain, this is no joke. I wish it were," the manreplied grimly. "We might not any of us be alive by morning."

"That's pretty melodramatic," Bill commented.

"That's the kind of world we live in, Captain Scully. By the way,my name's Frohike. I'm a friend of Dana's."

"Yes, she's mentioned you," Bill replied.

"She has?" The man's voice held a note of smug pleasure.

Jesus!>> Bill thought. Has every man in this citygot the hots for Dana?>> Aloud, he said, "Just in passing. Look, can't you tell me what this is all about? I'm not used to allthe cloak and dagger stuff."

There was a pause, then the man at the wheel said, "I think it wouldbe better to let Dana explain it to you. We'll be there in a fewmore minutes."

The rest of the trip passed in silence. Finally, the car pulledto a halt and the engine stopped. Bill heard the driver's door openand shut, and then his own door opened. "You can get out, now, CaptainScully," Frohike said.

Bill climbed out of the car and looked around. They were in arundown part of town, a commercial district of warehouses and decrepitoffice buildings. Silently, Frohike led the way into one of the latter. They climbed a flight of stairs, and Frohike paused in front of an unmarkeddoor. He gave three sharp knocks, paused, and then gave two more. "Frohike," he said. "I've got Captain Scully."

Fox Mulder opened the door, his Sig Sauer in his hand, pointing at thefloor. Mulder glanced at Frohike, then at Bill; then he stepped intothe hallway and looked both ways before finally holstering his weapon andleading them inside.

"Pretty tight security," Bill commented.

"We couldn't be sure you would be alone," Mulder said flatly as he shutthe door.

Bill took a moment to look around. The room was actually fairlylarge, but it was crammed full of computer terminals, sound and video equipmentand other electronic devices which Bill couldn't even begin to classify. At the far end of the room, Dana and two other men were bent over a computermonitor.

At the sound of the door closing, Dana looked up, and then turned andwalked over to Bill. Taking both of his hands, she went up on hertoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Bill," she said. "Thankyou for coming. I'm sorry about the way we did it, but it was...necessary." Her voice was strained and her manner distracted. Searching her face,Bill realized that she was afraid. But of what?

"That's okay," he said, and glanced around the room again. "Thisdoesn't look much like my conception of the FBI Crime Lab."

Dana smiled briefly, but then worry descended on her face again. "It's not," she said. She gestured at a chair. "Please, Bill,sit down." She waited until he had complied, then took another chairand pulled it over next to his and sat down. Mulder walked up behindher and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, as if he were somehowgiving her energy by his touch. She glanced up him, and briefly squeezedhis right hand with hers, then looked back at Bill.

"Where to begin," she said, half to herself. "I suppose I shouldstart with introductions." She gestured at the three strange men-- and as Bill took his first really good look at them, he realized that"strange" was a very apt word. But Dana was still talking. "You've already met Frohike," she said. "He was your driver."

Bill nodded, and his eyes provided a thumbnail sketch: Short,stocky, nebbishy-looking guy, wearing glasses and a receding hairline. "Hi," Frohike said, almost shyly. He extended his hand. "Gladto know Dana's brother." Bill shook his hand, and Dana proceededto introduce the other two: Langly, wearing jeans and a pornographict-shirt, with stringy blond hair hanging down past his shoulders, and Byers,a short, fussy-looking man with reddish-brown hair, sporting a Van Dykeand wearing a three piece suit.

Introductions completed, Dana leaned back in her chair and looked atBill for a moment. Then she craned her neck to look up at Mulderagain, still standing behind her and gently massaging her shoulders. "Where do I begin?" she asked him.

Mulder smiled. "Now you know how I feel sometimes, Special AgentScully," he said. Then he quoted, "'Begin at the beginning and goon till you come to the end. Then stop.'"

Dana actually laughed. "So are you the Red Queen tonight, Mulder? I would never have guessed." She lowered her eyes to look at Billagain, and her smile vanished. She looked at him intently for a moment,then sighed.

"I guess before we go any farther," she said, "we should make sure youunderstand what you're getting yourself into, if you agree to help us."

"Of course I'm going --"

She held up her hand. "Please, Bill; hear me out before you makeany promises." His sister looked at him levelly, unshed tears inher eyes. "Oh, God, Bill...if there were anybody else to ask -- anyonewe could trust." She shook her head, and Mulder gave her shouldersan extra squeeze. Again she touched his hand with hers, and seemedto draw comfort from it, and in that moment Bill did not resent the mannearly so much.

Dana continued, "What you must understand is that if you agree to joinus, you will be walking into a...supremely dangerous situation. Youwill be putting not just your own life at risk, but those of Taraand the baby as well."

Bill felt his throat constrict. "Dana," he said hoarsely. "WHAT'S GOING ON?"

"We'll get to the details in a bit," she said. "I want to makesure you understand, first, because five years ago *I* walked into thissituation unknowingly." She looked up at Mulder again, and he lookeddown at her, and there was an almost visible link between them as theylocked eyes. "And although I would not change a single moment, evenif I could, nevertheless it is not fair to do the same thing to you." Mulder nodded at her solemnly, and she dropped her gaze to Bill again.

"How can I understand the risk if you won't tell me any of the details?"Bill asked.

Dana nodded. "That's a fair question. The answer is, youreally cannot -- you're being asked to buy a pig in a poke, and no onehere will think less of you if you decide to walk away." She swallowed. "We almost didn't call you, Bill. We've put you in tremendous dangersimply by bringing you to this room." And she reached up and squeezedMulder's hand again.

Bill shook his head, tried to push it away. "No," he said. "This is nuts. It's a movie script. Things like this don'thappen in real life." He raised his arms in frustration. "Whatam I saying? I don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Bill," she said, looking him in the eyes with love and sadness. "I have never been more serious in my life. I know how this mustsound; I know it's melodramatic. But this is my work; this is whatI do, and you have got to trust me when I tell you that we are all in terrible,terrible danger. And it is terribly unfair to ask this of you, butwe are doing it anyway, and you must decide, and you must decide now."

Bill felt a chill run down his spine. She was serious. Shereally was serious. She was staring at him, unblinking, and now thetears were running down her cheeks, and there was only one answer he couldgive: "Of course, Dana," he said. "Of course I'll help."

Dana closed her eyes, and nodded. She looked up at Mulder, stillstanding over her, and he nodded slightly, as well. She looked backat Bill, and went on, "Okay. Well at least that much is settled,"she said, and gave a shaky little laugh. "I have one more questionwhich I...must ask you. You will probably find it offensive. It will probably make you angry. But I must ask it, and you mustanswer it, or this can go no further."

Bill nodded slowly, and braced himself.

His sister looked him in the eye, and said, "Captain William Scully,are you loyal to the United States?"

There was dead silence in the room. Even Mulder's hands had stoppedmoving on her shoulders.

Despite Dana's warning, Bill felt a surge of anger, but he forced itback down. Dana wouldn't be yanking his chain -- not about somethinglike this. If she was asking this question, it was because she wantedan answer, and that meant it deserved his full and sober consideration.

"I like to think that I am," he said at last. "I've taken an oathto that effect."

Dana looked into his face intently. "And what, in your view, isthe foundation of that oath?" she asked softly.

That was an easy one. "To defend the Constitution against allenemies, foreign and domestic."

Dana looked relieved, and leaned back in her chair. She tippedher head back to look at Mulder, and smiled. He smiled back.

"Told you," he said. "Now you owe ME some chocolate."

"I take it I pass," Bill said diffidently, and Dana laughed and leanedforward and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Yes," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt collar. "Youpass." And the tension seemed to go out of the room with an almostaudible "whoosh". Dana leaned back in her chair with a smile, andpatted Mulder's hand once more. "Now we can begin the briefing. Frohike? Why don't you start with the traffic analysis?"

The little man stepped forward and placed a black looseleaf binder onBill's lap. Bill opened it, and saw that it was filled with computerprintouts.

Frohike said, "For the last year or so, I've been trying to track theflow of communications within the DoD. Not to monitor the content-- that would be impossible. There is too much data. But bytracking who is talking to who, what routing they use, and the frequencyand length of the messages sent, we can begin to get some idea of how thingswork inside an organization. Given enough data, it is even possibleto create a model which will actually give us some notion of the subject'sfuture intended actions. Clear so far?"

Bill nodded. "I've had some information theory, and I did a tourwith the Sixth Fleet's threat team. I don't claim to be an expert,though."

"That's good," said Frohike. "So we can assume you understandthe basic theory. Now, what I've specifically been trying to do isget a handle on how the Pentagon manages its black ops teams."

"Black ops?" Bill asked. "You mean like Special Forces and NavySEALS?"

Frohike waved a hand in derision. "Hell no," he said. "Thoseguys are Boy Scouts. I'm talking about the REAL bad guys: No-nameunits. Hunter-killer squads. B&E, extortion, assassination. The whole nine yards."

Bill was shocked. He looked at Dana. "He can't be serious,"he protested. "Assassination squads? In THIS country?" He was offended at the very thought of it.

Dana leaned forward with a look of infinite sadness and gently laidher hand on his knee. "Bill, it's true," she said softly. "I'veseen these groups operate. I've watched them kill, and on more thanone occasion Mulder and I have barely escaped with our own lives." Again, there were unshed tears in her eyes. "Bill, I know it's hardto accept. I know it's not what we were brought up to believe, orto believe in. But it is true. Our government has done, andcontinues to do, all the things Frohike said, and more. Bill --" And here a special agony entered her voice, and Bill was afraid for a momentthat she was going to break down entirely. "Oh, Bill. Thesemen murdered Melissa!"

Bill closed his eyes and sat absolutely still. He could feel thewaves of conflicting emotions surging through him: Anger, fear, doubt,guilt. He knew that he stood on the brink of a precipice; it wouldtake only the slightest nudge to push him over the edge. And he couldn'tallow that to happen; too many people depended on him.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. Dana was still staringat him, her blue eyes boring into his and her cheeks once again streakedwith tears. Fox Mulder had come around from behind her chair, andnow knelt beside her, his arms encircling her upper body as if to somehowshield her from the emotional storm her own words had unleashed.

And everyone in the room was looking intently at Bill Scully. Waiting.

He took another deep breath, and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay. Let's...set that to one side for the moment." He knewthat they would have to come back to this later, but now was not the time. He looked at Frohike; unconsciously, he slipped into his ship's commanderpersona. "Show me what you've got," he said.

After the briefest of hesitations, Frohike nodded, and continued: "As you can see from the materials in the briefing book," he said, "evendisregarding the *content* of the message traffic, there was still a tremendousamount of data. I had to try a number of different algorithms beforeI finally found one that seemed to work." The blond man in the pornographict-shirt cleared his throat noisily, and Frohike added, rather reluctantly,"Also, Langly made some minor contributions." The blond man snorted.

Frohike stepped over to one of the computers. "Then, two monthsago, we made our real breakthrough." He tapped a few keys, and amap of North America appeared on the screen. A few more keystrokes,and two red dots appeared, one on the east coast, close to Washington,and the other in the general vicinity of El Paso.

"These two sites," Frohike declared, "are the central nodes for theofficial state terror apparatus of the United States government. This one," and a pudgy finger jabbed at the one on the east coast, "islocated at Quantico. The other one," and the finger moved to theother dot, "is a previously undisclosed installation known as 'Site Y'."

"'Site Y'?" Bill repeated. "I'm not familiar with that one."

"Neither is anyone else," Frohike replied. "Site Y has been aclosely-held secret, and does not appear on any of the rosters of officialU.S. government military installations -- it's not even on any of the classifiedlists."

Bill shook his head. He was beyond wondering how the little mancould possibly be privy to such information. "Go on," he said.

Frohike tapped his keyboard, and a collection of red and blue linesappeared on the map, radiating out from the two points Frohike had alreadyidentified. "These lines," he said, "represent the message trafficto and from Site Y and the terror node at Quantico. Blue lines areoutgoing messages, red lines are incoming. The thickness of the linesrepresents the volume of the message traffic, measured in gigabytes perday.

"As you can see," he went on, "while both Site Y and Quantico have regular,substantial contact with more than a dozen other installations scatteredaround the United States and Canada, by far the heaviest traffic is betweenthe two nodes, themselves." And Bill saw that this was true.

Frohike continued, "But most interesting of all is what happens whenwe chart message traffic versus time." He punched his keyboard, andthe colored lines disappeared. "This dynamic display begins on December1st of last year," he stated. "It processes at a rate of about oneweek per second." He tapped another key, and the display came tolife.

Red and blue lines sprang into existence, flickered, thickened. A few disappeared, only to be replaced by other, thicker lines. Aftera few seconds, Frohike said, "We're coming up on the end of January: Watch!" The screen exploded with color, and Bill sucked in his breath;it was that dramatic. The colored lines coruscated across the continent,rippling and proliferating, finding new terminuses. Finally, thedisplay stopped moving. "And here we are," Frohike concluded. "Yesterday afternoon, 1700 hours EST."

Bill stared at the screen for a pair of minutes, then he looked backat Dana. "Okay," he said. "It's all very interesting, but Istill don't see where we're going."

"That's only the first half of the briefing," she replied. "Byers?"

The fussy little man in the three piece suit stepped forward and tookFrohike's place at the keyboard. He rapidly typed in a series ofcommands, and the colored lines vanished from the screen, to be replacedby symbols which Bill recognized as standard military unit designations.

"Frohike brought me his preliminary findings about six weeks ago," Byerssaid. "Obviously, it was in a more primitive form than the demonstrationyou just saw, but Langly and I were able to tweak it a bit in order todevelop the analysis to the point where useful conclusions could be drawn." Frohike rolled his eyes at this allocation of credit, but he remained silent.

"Meanwhile," Byers went on, "I got interested in personnel movementsand logistics." He continued to tap the keyboard while he talked. "Obviously, the data were harder to collect, but we were able to interceptpersonnel manifests and the like, and so we had something to work with." He pointed at the screen.

The map was a confused welter of various colored lines crisscrossingthe continent. Byers worked the keyboard, and said, "This displayrepresents movements of uniformed personnel in groups of fifty or more,for the past six months. As you can see, they're literally all overthe map." His fingers flew across the keyboard. "Now let'sstrip away everything except the movements which pass through Site Y orQuantico," he continued, and the familiar double wagon wheel pattern ofFrohike's display reappeared on the screen. "Then we add in knownexercises and alerts, with live fire exercises marked in purple and therest in yellow...and there you are."

Bill studied the screen, and as the patterns started to fall into placehe felt a chill race down his spine. "My god," he whispered. He glanced at Dana, then back to the screen. "What did you say thetimeframe is for this display?"

"Six months," Byers said flatly. "May to November. Thisyear. You're a professional military man, Captain Scully; that'sone reason we brought you in on this. I've already drawn my own conclusions;now you tell me what YOU see."

Bill almost couldn't bring himself to say it, but the facts glowingon the computer screen were damning. In a last, desperate attemptat denial, he said, "I assume the data you've presented are accurate."

Dana's voice echoed through the room. "They're accurate. Bet on it."

A sense of unreality swept over Bill, and he heard the words issuingfrom his lips almost as if someone else were speaking them. "This..." His voice faltered, and he had to start over. "This is an extendedrehearsal of an operational plan for the military occupation of the UnitedStates." He licked his lips. "Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus, makeit not be so."

But it was so, and in his heart Bill Scully already knew it.

Byers said, "Unfortunately, Captain Scully, that isn't all; the nightmaregets worse." He switched off the computer and stood to face Billdirectly.

"We don't have graphics to show you for this part -- Frohike and I wereup all last night getting this much of it ready to show Mulder. Butnineteen days ago we began to pick up an increased tempo in both electroniccommunications and troop movements. You yourself have already seendirect evidence of this."

"I have?"

Byers nodded. "Last night we spotted your name on a MATS manifestfor a C-141 which arrived at Washington National this past Saturday afternoon." Bill nodded in agreement, and Byers went on, "On that plane with you were197 officers and upper-echelon noncoms bound for duty at Quantico withthe 8th Marine Division."

Bill was puzzled. "There is no 8th Marine Division," he objected. Byers didn't say anything, and Bill's stomach started to hurt. "Youmean --"

Byers nodded, and said, "In addition to the message traffic and thepersonnel movements, ten days ago the Army's Logistics Corps started activatingits Reserve units and deploying them throughout the country. Theofficial reason being given for this is a supposed need to test the military'sability to interface with FEMA in case of widespread natural disaster orsome other national emergency." Byers paused, and smiled withouthumor. "And now we find that for the past 36 hours it has been impossibleto call Quantico. Even Agent Scully -- Dana -- has been unable toget through to the FBI facility there. Langly?"

The blond man took over. "We had Dana try placing her call fromhere, using some of our special equipment," he said, his eyes glittering. "Ostensibly, calls to Quantico are being answered by military operatorsattached to a Marine Corps unit stationed at the base. But I puta traceroute on the FTS 2000 lines, and guess what I found?"

Bill shook his head.

Langly said, "The calls are being rerouted to a set of numbers in PentagonCity -- an exchange which just happens to be reserved exclusively for thePentagon's high-security vox lines. I didn't dare check the linefor monitoring devices, but you can pretty well assume that they're there. The only good news is that apparently my own kung fu at this end was goodenough to fox 'em, or we'd all be dead by now. Literally."

Byers concluded, "I think we have to assume, based on the evidence inhand, that they are preparing to execute this plan as we speak. D-Daymay be only a week or two away; it may even be only a matter of days."

A heavy silence hung over the room in the wake of Byers' statement. Finally, Bill slowly exhaled, and said, "Well." He looked aroundthe room at Dana and the others. "What do we do now?"

"That's the question of the day, isn't it?" Byers said. He stoodup and stretched. "I for one am in favor of getting some rest beforetrying to work out a plan of action. I don't know about the restof you, but my thought processes are rarely improved by sleep deprivation."

Bill looked at his watch, and was startled to find that it was almosttwo a.m. The evening had become so intense that he'd completely losthis time sense.

"I agree," Dana said. "We're all tired, and tired people makepoor decisions." She stood up from her chair, and Mulder rose fromhis kneeling position next to her.

Langly said to Dana, "I don't think it would be very smart for you orMulder -- or Captain Scully -- to go back home tonight. We don'tKNOW that your phone was tapped, but we didn't have an opportunity to checkit, either."

Bill looked at his sister in surprise, and she nodded wearily. "We -- Mulder and me -- we've been working in opposition to some very powerfulpeople, Bill," she said. "Both Mulder and I have in the past foundmonitoring devices in our apartments, on our phone lines -- even in ouroffice at work."

"Jesus," was all Bill could think of to say.

"What do you recommend, Langly," Mulder inquired. "The YMCA?"

"I think I'd feel uncomfortable there," Dana said.

The lanky blond shrugged. "Why not stay here? It's not theHilton, but we've got plenty of blankets and pillows -- 18 hour days arepretty common around here, especially when Doohickey here gets a wild hairup his ass about something or other."

"I do not get hair up my ass," Frohike stated with wounded dignity. "I will admit to being a tenacious investigator, however."

Mulder nodded. "I think that sounds best," he said. "Thatway we have mutual protection, too. We can even take turns stayingup, so someone will always be on guard."

Byers shook his head. "We're all beat, Mulder -- and besides,what would be the point? You know as well as I do that if they comefor us they'll come with overwhelming force."

"Guys, can we just get on with it?" Dana asked, leaning against a wall,a look of utter exhaustion on her face. "I'm about to fall asleepstanding up."

The next few minutes were occupied with distributing bedclothes andmoving furniture out of the way. Finally, Bill was able to stretchout and relax. He hadn't realized how tired he was until Byers alludedto the time.

He let his eyes flick around the room, looking at each of his companions. By unspoken agreement, they'd left the overhead light on, as if by so doingthey could somehow keep the demons at bay.

Byers, he saw, was already asleep, snoring softly and wrapped up inhis bedroll as if it were a cocoon. Langly and Frohike were conductinga whispered argument over who was going to sleep next to the radiator. Mulder was laying on his back, hands clasped behind his head, staring atthe ceiling. And Dana....

His eyes blurred as he looked at his sister. Despite her evidentexhaustion, emotional as well as physical, she was still sitting up, herback against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest, her forehead restingon her knees; she looked utterly miserable.

He couldn't bear to see her like that. His own heart ached forTara; he would give anything right now just to have her with him, and holdher close. His sister was also clearly suffering, but she was denyingherself the obvious solution, apparently out of deference to his own feelings-- or perhaps just to avoid another scene when everyone was already sodreadfully tired.

I am such an asshole,>> he thought.

Sighing, he rolled onto his hands and knees, and crawled over to whereDana was sitting. She didn't seem to hear him approach, and as hegot closer he saw that her shoulders were shaking. Ever so gently,he reached out and stroked her arm.

Her head jerked up with a start, and he saw her tear-stained featuresshift from despair to joy to wary watchfulness all in an instant. "Bill," she whispered, too low for anyone else to hear.

"Dana," he replied, equally quietly. He looked at her face, lookedinto her eyes, and saw a complex mixture of fear and sorrow and exhaustion. This isn't right,>> he thought. No one should haveto face something like this. But since she does have to face it,at least she shouldn't have to face it alone.>>

Bill was suddenly aware of Mulder's eyes on his back, watching everymove he made. "Dana," Bill repeated, and swallowed. This wasturning out to be harder than he had expected -- but it was the right thingto do, and Bill was determined to do his duty, no matter how difficultor embarrassing. "Dana, I think...I think you should do...whateveryou need to do...to be comfortable."

She searched his face for a long moment, and although she still lookedexhausted and afraid, now he saw a light behind her eyes as well. At last she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Bill,"she whispered. And she took her blanket and pillow and crept overto where Mulder lay, and Mulder opened his arms and tenderly gathered herinto a protective embrace, stroking her hair and whispering something toher that evoked the first genuine smile that Bill had seen on her facein hours.

And when Bill Scully finally dropped off to sleep, he dreamed of Tara.

TUESDAY

Bill awoke to the sound of gunshots. For a groggy half-second,he wondered what the hell was going on; then the instincts ingrained byhalf a lifetime of military service kicked in, and he jerked to wakefulness.

As he rolled over onto his belly, he heard another fusillade comingfrom the doorway behind him. scrambling around to look in that direction,he was briefly aware of Frohike, Byers and Langly, churning about franticallyon the far side of the room. Then his eyes focused on the sourceof the gunfire.

Dana was lying stretched out on her stomach next to the doorway, herSig Sauer extended in both hands and firing methodically at something inthe hallway. As he watched, horrified, he heard the staccato rippingsound of a machine pistol returning fire and chewing up the doorjamb andfloor right next to his sister's head.

Dana flinched, then fired again, and this time she was rewarded by ascream of agony coming from the hallway. Pausing to eject a spentclip and ram home a new one, she yelled over her shoulder, "Mulder! We have to get out of here! There are too many of them!"

Bill was suddenly aware of his sister's partner charging across theroom towards her. Again there was the sound of an automatic weapon,and Dana returned fire as Mulder was forced to dive for cover.

"Dammit, Mulder!" she cried again, desperation edging into her voice. "Get the fuck out of here!" And she fired again down the hallway.

Something had to be done, and quickly, but Dana and Mulder had the onlyfirearms. Casting his gaze about the room, Bill's eyes fell upona nearby chair. He rolled desperately to his left, bringing himselfto within arm's reach. He grabbed onto one leg, and twisting aroundand using all of his strength he came to a half-sitting position and heavedthe chair through the nearest window.

The glass was still falling as Bill scrambled to his feet. "Comeon! This way!" he shouted, making a dash for the window. Outof the corner of his eye, he saw Mulder slither across the floor to Dana,and start firing in the same direction she was. He felt a pang ofguilt that he was running away, but all he had was his bare hands, andthat was no match for a machine pistol.

Disregarding the shards of glass still sticking up here and there, hegrasped the bottom frame of the window with both hands and vaulted throughit. For just a moment he hung from the side of the building, thenlet himself drop the eight or ten feet to the small parking lot below. He hit the ground and rolled, clearing the way for whoever might come next. There was a half-inch cover of new snow, and a frigid wind was blowing,but he hardly noticed the cold.

He looked back up at the window just in time to see Frohike come tumblingout. The little man hit the ground with a dull thud, and lay there,momentarily paralyzed by the fall. Bill scrambled to his feet anddragged Frohike away from the landing zone, just as Byers came hurtlingout, followed quickly by Langly. Bill helped Frohike climb back tohis feet while the other two were brushing themselves off and catchingtheir breath.

More gunfire sounded from inside the building, and Bill heard someonescream, a bloodcurdling sound. He turned to the other three men,and shouted, "You guys better make a run for it; I'm going back in!"

"Wait!" yelled Byers.

"No! There's no time, and somebody has to preserve what we know. Now get going before it's too late for all of us! I've got to tryto help Dana and Mulder!" The other man hesitated, and Bill screamed,"Dammit, Byers, she's my sister! It's my privilege! But ifsomebody doesn't get away, it will all be for nothing!"

Byers bit his lip, then nodded reluctantly. "Okay," he agreed,and the others nodded, too. "If -- when you get clear, we'lltry to be at Lafayette Park in two hours!"

"Got it!" The other three scattered, and Bill turned to head backinside...just as his sister and Fox Mulder came tearing around the farcorner of the building. Dana was slightly in front, and as he watched,Mulder turned and fired back along the way they'd come.

Dana made a beeline for one of the cars in the parking lot, holdingher gun in one hand and groping in a pocket for her keys with the other. Bill ran to meet her, and got there just as she pulled the driver's sidedoor open. Bill reached around and unlocked the back passenger dooras she dropped into the driver's seat, yanking his hand clear just as sheslammed her door shut.

Bill dived into the back seat as she cranked the ignition, gunning thecar for all it was worth. He managed to sit up in time to see Mulder,who had fallen behind Dana as a result of covering the rear, slip in thesnow and fall, just as a man dressed all in black, including a black skimask, came running around the corner of the building.

The man saw Mulder fall, and skidded to a halt. He raised hismachine pistol and took aim, and through the closed car windows Bill couldfaintly hear Mulder yelling, "Scully! Get out of here! It'stoo late!"

"Like hell it is!" she snarled, and threw the car into gear and jammedthe gas pedal to the floor. The tires spun for an instant on thenew fallen snow, then they found their purchase, and the car lurched forward,rapidly picking up speed.

The man in black never had a chance. The front of the car struckhim squarely, sending him flying through the air and crashing into theside of the building. Dana was already slamming on the brakes andBill was reaching across to throw open the right hand back passenger door. Dana screamed, "Mulder! Now now now now now!" and Mulder was up andrunning again and diving into the back seat next to Bill.

Dana floored the accelerator again, and the car fishtailed wildly asshe took the turn onto the street. Mulder almost fell out, but Billgrabbed hold of the other man's belt and hung on until Mulder could pullhis feet inside and slam the door. Looking back through the rearwindow, Bill saw three more men running after them, and realized what theywere doing just as two of them opened fire.

He ducked down on top of Mulder as the rear window exploded inward ina cataract of shattered safety glass, and Bill breathed a brief prayerto whichever saint was responsible for protecting gas tanks and automobiletires as Dana powered the car through a sharp left at the first intersection. They bounced off a parked car, and for a moment Bill thought Dana had lostcontrol, but she managed to steer into the incipient spin and then thecar was rolling forward again.

At the next intersection they turned right, then left, and finally Mulder,who by now was crouched on the back seat, gun in hand and peering throughthe empty rear window, announced, "I think we lost them."

Dana let up on the accelerator, and the car's speed dropped back belowthe legal limit. Turning around and settling down in his seat, Muldersaid, "Well that was fun. Definitely an 'E' ticket."

Looking anxiously in the rearview mirror, Dana said, "Mulder, are youokay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine, Scully," her partner replied. "Although I think I justused up two of my nine lives. Bill's bleeding, though."

"Just some cuts," Bill said. "Nothing serious; I took some glasson the way through that window. Let's not do this again anytime soon,okay?"

By now they were cruising through a fairly respectable-looking workingclass neighborhood. Dana said, "We've got to get rid of this car;they'll have people out looking for it, and they may even put out warrantson the police wire. We wouldn't last ten minutes once they got usin the local jail." Putting actions to words, she pulled over tothe curb and switched off the engine. She opened her door and gotout, and Bill and Mulder followed suit.

Dana went immediately to Mulder, pressed her forehead against his chest,wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes. "Thank God,"she said. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I was getting a little worried there for a minute, too," her partnerreplied, giving her a gentle hug. "But you saved me, Scully. You always do."

The embrace had gone on just long enough for Bill to start to feel uncomfortablewhen they broke out of their clinch. Dana turned to Bill and said,"Let me see your hands." He held them out and she looked them overcarefully, then sighed with relief. "You're going to be okay. We need to find some bandages and some disinfectant, but you should befine." She turned back to Mulder. "So now what do we do?"

"I was just thinking about that," her partner replied. "Do youknow if the Gunmen got clear?"

Dana shook her head, and looked at her brother. "Bill? Doyou know?"

Bill was confused. "Gunmen?"

"Frohike, Langly and Byers," she explained.

Bill wanted to ask why they were called that, but decided that thiswasn't the time for it. "I think they got away," he said. "Theytook off running in three directions, and I didn't see anyone going afterthem. Byers said they'd meet us at Lafayette Park in two hours." He glanced at his watch. "An hour and three quarters, now."

"That's our target, then," Mulder declared. "First, though, weneed to find some winter clothes. Not only is it fucking cold out,but we're going to stick out like sore thumbs wandering around outsidein shirt sleeves in this weather."

"Three sore thumbs, Mulder?" Dana asked, smiling faintly.

"Better than three blind mice," he countered, laughing. "Or threedead mice."

She smiled and punched his upper arm, a glancing blow. "The firstthing we need is some money," she said. "We don't dare use our creditcards, even if you guys have yours. Everything but my car keys isstill in my purse, and somehow I don't feel like going back after it rightnow."

Bill nodded. "I've got about twenty dollars," he said.

Mulder pulled out his wallet and riffled through the currency section. Bill raised his eyebrows when he saw the denominations. "Two hundredand twenty seven dollars," Mulder announced. That ought to keep usgoing for awhile, as long as we don't insist on filet mignon."

"I don't know, Mulder," Dana said, deadpan. "You promised me agood time."

Bill noticed an elderly black man standing on the stoop of the brownstoneacross the street, looking at them curiously. He gestured with hishead. "I think we better get moving," he said.

They turned and started to walk along the sidewalk, heading in the generaldirection of the Mall. Dana and Mulder walked side by side, theirarms brushing against each other every few steps; Bill walked a coupleof steps behind so that their party would not to take up the entire sidewalk.

"Mulder," Dana said, shivering slightly. "Where are we going tofind clothes? It really is damned cold, and I don't think this isthe sort of neighborhood to have a Lord and Taylors."

"We'll find something, Scully," he replied. He put his arm aroundher shoulder. "I'll keep you warm until then."

# # #

Lafayette Park was cold and windy, but that hadn't kept the protestersaway, Bill noted with disgust. Not as many as would be expected inbetter weather, but there were still half a dozen of them, marching ina circle and carrying signs with slogans like "RESIGN!" and "THE OVAL OFFICEIS NOT THE ORAL OFFICE!"

"I don't think those guys like the president very much." Billjumped at the unexpected sound of Mulder's voice.

He turned to face Mulder, who was standing next to Dana in the windbreakcreated by the statue of the French general for whom the park was named. "I'm not nuts about the guy, either," Bill admitted. "But he IS mycommander in chief. And this --" he waved his hand vaguely in thedirection of the demonstrators. "This is embarrassing."

"Y'know," Mulder said, "just speculating, but it occurs to me that thiscould be why the whole mess started." None of them could bring themselvesto use the word "coup".

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"Well, look at it," his sister's partner replied. "The president'scaught up in a sex scandal. The VICE president looks like he mightbe in trouble over the China campaign money scandal. Maybe somebodyjust decided that this would be a good time to do some housecleaning andinstall new management." He shrugged. "Just speculation, likeI said. But it does answer the one question that's been botheringme: Why now? This could have happened anytime in the past fiftyyears; why did they wait until now?"

"Where the hell are the Gunmen?" Dana asked irritably. It hadbeen a long walk to Lafayette Park, and she had seemed to tolerate thecold less well than the two men. Even the secondhand coats they hadpicked up at a Salvation Army store along the way hadn't seemed to makeher warmer.

"Take it easy, Scully," Mulder said softly. "They'll be here whenthey can." He tried to put an arm around her shoulders, but she shruggedit off and took a few steps away from him.

"I'm fine, Mulder; just leave me alone, okay?" she snapped. "I'mcold and I'm tired and I'm hungry and I'm worried about our friends andI'm not in the mood. Just...leave me alone." She was also,Bill observed, scared to death -- as were they all.

A look of pain and frustration came and went on Fox Mulder's face, soquickly that Bill wasn't sure they had really been there at all. "Sorry, Scully," the FBI man said. "I'm worried about them, too."

Bill watched, an unwilling voyeur, as a complex series of emotions flittedacross his sister's face: Fear, anger, fury, despair, exhaustion...love? Then her shoulders sagged, and she turned and walked back to her partner. "I'm NOT fine, Mulder" she said, laying her head on his chest and acceptinghis embrace. "I'm just so damned scared and I don't know what we'regonna do. Everything's going to hell, and I am fucking TIRED of havingto be strong all the time." She sniffled loudly and buried her facein his chest.

The two of them stood there silent and motionless for a moment. Mulder stroked her hair softly, then looked up and caught Bill's eye. "Hey, Scully," Mulder said, a slight smile on his lips. "There'sa guy over there who looks like he's afraid the world is about to end;he also looks like he's probably freezing his ass off. Shall we invitehim into the hot tub?"

Dana looked up and studied her partner's face for a moment, then turnedpartway and extended an arm towards her brother.

Hesitantly, Bill moved forward, and gingerly slipped his arms aroundhis sister's waist. She closed her eyes and leaned up against him,and for the moment, at least, seemed to be utterly content.

Bill looked up at Mulder, and he could see the wheels spinning behindthe FBI agent's eyes. "Don't say it, Mulder," Bill growled. "Not a word. This is strictly for Dana."

Mulder's eyes danced, and his lips quirked, but he nodded and didn'tsay anything, and the three of them stood there for a few moments in anawkward embrace.

"You know, this is scarcely decent for third parties."

Bill hastily released Dana and turned to see Langly smirking at himfrom a few feet away. Behind him, Byers was making a great show ofstudying the detail work on the statue of Lafayette, while Frohike waslooking at the ground and frowning.

"Langly! Byers!" Dana let go of Mulder and sped to the other threemen, giving each of them a hug in turn. "Frohike," she added, plantinga gentle kiss on the nebbishy little man's cheek. He blushed brickred, but he also gave her a shit-eating grin.

"Hi, boys," Mulder said with a casual wave. "Frohike, I'd kissyou, too, but I haven't shaved this morning and I wouldn't want to giveyou whisker burns."

"It's good to see you, too, Mulder," Byers replied. "I didn'tthink you were going to make it."

"It was tight for a little while," the FBI man admitted, "but we pulledit off, and here we are." He paused, then added, "Now what?"

"We've got some ideas," Langly said. "Why don't we go find a cupof coffee and see what we can hash out."

Ten minutes later they were sliding into a booth at a small coffee shopon a side street a few blocks from the Mall, Dana and Mulder on one sideand Bill and Langly on the other. Frohike and Byers grabbed chairsfrom a nearby table and pulled them up to the end of the booth. Theywaited in silence while the waitress brought coffee, muffins and bagels;then the discussion began.

"To begin with," said Langly, "the good news is that Frohike managedto save the zip disk we had those demonstrations backed up on. Thebad news, of course, is that we've lost all of our equipment, so we won'tbe collecting anymore data." He pushed his glasses back up on hisnose. "Our proposal is to log on to the Internet and do a data dump,and try to get the word out that way. It's the only thing we canthink of that seems to have any chance at all of succeeding."

Mulder frowned. "It's not really much to hang our hats on, isit?" he asked. "I mean, sure, we can dump the stuff into alt.conspiracy.wingnut,but who's going to listen? It will get lost among all the drivel. I really don't see what that gains us."

Langly shrugged. "What alternatives do we have? You wantto mount a frontal assault on Quantico? May I remind you that wealmost got our nuts munched this morning? And that was against sixbad guys -- there are at least six THOUSAND out at Quantico, and that'sonly counting the ones who have been brought in for the 'special operation'."

Bill spoke up. "It's possible that there's another alternative. I have a friend, we went to the Academy together. Now he's a colonelin the Marine Corps, attached to the personal staff of the Chairman ofthe Joint Chiefs." He looked at Dana, and couldn't resist a littledig. "You remember Jiggs Casey, don't you, Dana? You had acrush on him your senior year in high school."

Fox Mulder looked interested, but Dana gave Bill a freezing look, andthere was a glint of warning in her eye. "I did NOT have a crushon Cadet Casey," she declared. "I merely found him to be an interestingconversationalist."

Bill reflected that Dana's definition of "conversation" must be somewhatbroader than his own, but from the look that she was still giving him,perhaps this wasn't the best possible time to be going into it. "Anyway,"he said to the others, "Jiggs is a real stand-up guy. He's on theinside; he can help us."

"'He's on the inside,'" Byers repeated slowly. "That can be atwo-edged sword, of course."

Bill shook his head. "Jiggs Casey is not like that," he said flatly. "I've known the man for twenty years, and it is just not in his natureto be involved in treason."

Mulder was shaking his head. "I don't know," he said. "Idon't like it. It seems like a big risk to be taking. We'dbe putting it all on the line to this one officer, and if your judgmentturns out to be wrong..." He let the statement trail off.

Bill said, "I understand that. But it's a risk we have to take,and I am confident -- I am POSITIVE -- that Jiggs will be on our side,once we've explained the situation."

Mulder thought about it for a minute, then looked at his partner. "What do you think, Dana? You've met this guy."

"Mulder, that was twenty years ago." She shook her head. "I really don't know what to say. We're in a very precarious situation,and we have to move carefully. On the other hand, we don't have muchtime, and we're going to have to trust someone, at some point. -- or wemight just as well all go home and wait for the tanks to come rolling downPennsylvania Avenue." She shivered slightly.

They all sat silently for a moment, as Dana's last comment forced themall to look directly at their fears. Finally, Mulder stirred. "Okay," he said. "We'll give it a try. Bill, go ahead and seewhat you can set up with this Colonel Casey. Be cautious, but asDana said, we don't have much time and we have even fewer options, so dothe best you can." His eyes flicked across Langly, Byers and Frohike. "You guys go ahead and follow up on Langly's idea. It can't hurt,and it might help, just getting the information out in front of SOMEBODY. Bear in mind that if Bill's idea works out we will at some point want toshow it to Colonel Casey, so for god's sake don't let anything happen tothat disk. In the meantime, Scully and I will be making some phonecalls; there are still a few people who might be able to help us." He looked at Dana, and she nodded. He glanced at his watch. "Let's try to meet back in the park in eight hours. That's six p.m. Any questions?" He paused, and no one answered. "Okay, then. Let's get moving."

Mulder left some money on the table and they filed out of the coffeeshop, Bill bringing up the rear. As he approached the door, he noticeda small rack of postcards standing by the cash register. On impulse,Bill stopped to look at them.

Most of the cards were standard pictures of monuments and public buildings,and his eyes quickly passed over them. Then his gaze fell on a cardfeaturing cherry blossoms in bloom. Tara had always loved cherryblossoms, and he really ought to --

Ought to what?>> he wondered. Write to her? What do I say? "Having a wonderful time; sorry I won't be home forChristmas?" How do you tell the woman you love that you're sorry,but you will never see her again, never again hold her in your arms?>>

His vision blurred as he thought about it. They had had it allplanned out: His Navy career, with ambitions for flag rank; theirplans for children; his eventual retirement and second career; grandchildren. And through it all, always, Tara by his side. Now it was all ashes;it was never going to happen. For he knew in his heart that whetherthey succeeded or failed, it was most unlikely that he -- or any of theirlittle band -- would survive the attempt.

How could he fit that onto a postcard? He didn't dare call heron the phone; it might help their pursuers. Worse, it would drawattention to Tara and the baby, and expose THEM to greater risk, and hewas flatly unwilling even to consider that. He didn't even know ifhe would have time to write a proper letter before the end came. The few words he could fit on this card might have to last Tara for a lifetime.

He glanced over at Dana and her partner, waiting for him by the door,their heads bent together in intimate consultation. As he watched,Dana brushed a lock of Mulder's hair out of his eyes, and Mulder smiledat her.

He was suddenly angry. What right do THEY have to be together?>>he thought. What right do THEY have to be happy?>> He wanted to scream at them, to push them apart. No one should belike, like THAT....

Immediately he felt ashamed. He still did not completely understandDana's relationship with Fox Mulder, but it was clear that Mulder was helpingher find peace, just as Tara did for Bill. If she and Mulder werefortunate enough to get to spend their last days together, that was atleast some consolation in the face of the onrushing darkness.

There isn't nearly enough love in the world,>> Bill reflectedwistfully.

He sighed, and looked down at the postcard again. While he'd beenthinking, he'd automatically written Tara's name on it; now he added theaddress that he was already starting to think of as hers rather than theirs. Just a few lines,>> he thought sadly. That's allI'll ever have, now. That's all I'll ever be able to give to her.>> It seemed hopelessly inadequate.

Then it came to him. He nodded his head; it was right. Itwould explain everything. Tara would be sad -- she would be heartbroken. But at least she would understand, and she would forgive him for stealingall those years they had expected to have together. Hastily, suddenlyafraid that even this might be taken from him, he scribbled on the cardfor a few seconds, and it was done. He gazed for a moment at hiswork, and a single tear fell from his cheek and landed on the postcard,slightly smearing the ink. Bill smiled a melancholy smile; Tara wouldhave that much of him, at least.

Should I sign it?>> he wondered. But it wasn't necessary;Tara would know his handwriting, and the dozen or so words he had writtenwould tell her everything he could say, everything she would ever need. She was a strong woman, and he knew that she would be able to carry on.

He bought a stamp from the cashier, and paid for the card. Hehesitated, and felt the fear wash over him. What if they were waitingoutside? What if he never even had the chance to mail the postcard,his final epistle to his best beloved? He couldn't stand even thinkingabout that.

He caught the eye of the young woman behind the counter once again,and asked, "Would you mind mailing this for me when you get a chance? I'm in a bit of a hurry." And she agreed.

His mind finally at peace, Captain William Scully strode purposefullyto the door, and with his sister and her partner he went on out to fightthe future. And in his mind the words he had written to his wifeechoed and re-echoed, and calmed his soul:

*I could not love thee, dear, so much, lov'd I not honour more.*

WEDNESDAY

Bill Scully wearily climbed the hill leading to the carillon at ArlingtonNational Cemetery. He had suggested this as their evening rendezvous,but he was tired, and he was cold, and he wished he had thought of someplaceboth flatter and warmer.

Dana was waiting for him when he reached the top of the hill, sittingon a park bench and hugging herself against the cold. The carillonsat before her, a gift to the United States from the people of Denmarkin the aftermath of World War II. For the thousandth time in hislife, Bill read the inscription carved into the marble, and he felt a shiverrun down his spine that was not entirely due to the cold and the wind: "While these bells ring, rest safely. Freedom lives."

With a groan of exhaustion, Bill eased himself down on the bench nextto Dana. He, his sister and her partner had spent the previous nighthuddled around a heating grate in order to preserve their limited funds,then spent most of today tramping around downtown Washington looking forsome clue as to the whereabouts of Frohike, Langly and Byers, who had failedto return to Lafayette Park the evening before. Idly, Bill wonderedif any of the three were still alive, but he was almost too tired to care.

Dana said, "You know, I haven't been up here in years. I'd forgottenhow beautiful it is. I've been here for, oh, half an hour or so,just sitting and listening to the bells." Her voice was dreamy andher eyes were closed.

"You must be pretty cold if you've been here that long," Bill ventured.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We won't be here muchlonger." Suddenly, her eyes popped open, and she looked up at herbrother. "I'm sorry, Bill. I didn't mean to say that."

"Why not?" he asked quietly. "It's what we've all been thinking." A vision of Tara's face flashed through his mind, but he quickly suppressedit. Not going to go there,>> he thought firmly. Itwouldn't do anybody any good, and besides, there's no time.>>

He studied his sister's face for a moment. She really had a remarkableface; Bill had always thought so. It had such character, and wasso proudly and completely...Dana. He thought that if he were a womanhe would wish for a face like hers, and to hell with other female features.

She turned her head and caught him staring at her, and she arched aneyebrow at him in question. "What are you looking at?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "I was just thinking...There's a lot youhaven't told me, isn't there? I mean, about your life and...everything."

She sat quietly for a moment, considering it, and suddenly Bill wonderedif she thought he was snooping again. He was about to apologize andwithdraw the question, when she said, "Yes. Yes there is. Iwish I'd been more open with you, as well as the rest of the family. But that's always been hard for me. And now, well, there's so littletime."

Bill nodded. "I know. I know those things. But itisn't all your fault, Dana, not by a longshot. We weren't -- *I*wasn't very receptive to some of the things you did try to tell me. I could have listened better."

"Yes, you could have," Dana agreed, but there was no accusation in hervoice. She looked at him for a minute, her head cocked sideways;then she put her arm around his neck and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "But you're listening now." Her lips quirked. "As Mulder would say,you're learning to respect the journey."

"He's very important to you, isn't he?" Bill said hesitantly. She nodded solemnly. "I knew that; I just wanted to say it. And I wanted to say that, that I've come to know him better recently, andthat I was wrong. He's a good man. Not that my opinion matters."

Dana smiled, and suddenly she had tears in her eyes. In a smallvoice, she said, "Your opinion has always mattered to me, Bill. Thankyou for understanding." And she hugged him tightly for a minute.

A few minutes later Fox Mulder arrived, but instead of coming over toBill and Dana, he leaned up against the monument, hands in his pockets,obviously lost in thought. After a moment or two, he started pacingin slow circles around the carillon. On his second pass, Dana wordlesslygot up from the bench and fell into step next to him.

"Hi, Bill." Bill turned around to see Jiggs Casey standing a fewfeet away. Bill stood up and shook hands with his friend, and theyboth sat down on the bench.

The two sat silently together for a few minutes, watching Mulder andDana walk around and around the carillon. As they passed by for thethird time, Jiggs said, "Bill, are you sure about all this stuff? Are you really sure? You don't think you could have been...misled?"

Bill sighed. They had been over this ground twice the night before,at their first meeting, and although he could understand why Jiggs wouldbe skeptical, it was still vexing. "You didn't see those computerdemos. If you had --"

"If I had, maybe things would be different," Jiggs cut in. "ButI didn't." He stopped talking as the two FBI agents emerged frombehind the carillon, and waited until they had passed by again. "Ididn't see it," he repeated.

"You didn't see it, so you don't believe it?" Bill shook his headquickly. "I apologize; that was uncalled for. If our positionswere reversed, I probably wouldn't believe you, either."

The Marine shook his head. "I'm not saying I don't believe you,Bill. But think about this for a minute. All you really sawwas a display on a computer screen, and we both know how easy it wouldbe to fake something like that." He moved a little closer and loweredhis voice as Dana and Mulder made another of their slow circuits. "I did a little checking this morning, based on what you told me last night. There is no record in JCS files of a Site Y, nor is there any record ofunusual troop movements involving Quantico. The bottom line is, Ithink you've been taken for a ride."

Bill shook his head violently. "Dana wouldn't do that!"

"Maybe she's been fooled, too." Another pause. Then: "Look, I did some checking on her friend Mulder, too. This guy'sa complete nutcase; nobody takes him seriously. The FBI barely tolerateshim -- they call him 'Spooky Mulder', and he -- and Dana -- get sent offon all the wild goose chases and snipe hunts. And as for those otherthree names you gave me -- those guys are even worse."

"But Dana --"

"Dana's got a good, solid head on her shoulders, and normally I wouldtake her word as gospel. But she's also obviously head-over-heelsin love with this guy, and that means her judgment in the matter is suspect."

"It's not like that."

Jiggs sighed in exasperation. "Man, are you blind? Lookat them!" Mulder and Dana had stopped their pacing, and now werestanding together in its windbreak, talking quietly and seriously. As Bill and Jiggs watched, Dana put out her hand and gently stroked Mulder'scheek. Jiggs went on, "Bill, I'm not accusing you of lying or anything-- Christ knows I would never do that. I'm not even really sayingthat I don't believe you. But even you must realize that you havepresented only circumstantial evidence. And the fact that I havebeen unable to confirm the key points just makes it harder."

"What about Dana's car?" Bill said.

Jiggs shrugged. "It was found just where you said it would be,rear window shot out and everything. I checked with the FBI, toldthem I was a friend of the family -- which is even true, now that I thinkabout it. It seems that they are very worried about the whereaboutsof Special Agent Scully, and they're treating it as a kidnapping. As for Mulder, he's sufficiently erratic that apparently no one has realizedhe's missing yet -- at least, not officially."

Jiggs went on, "There have also been no reports in the papers of a shootoutat that office building you mentioned. I even drove over to the placemyself at lunchtime, but there's nothing there. No indication ofa fight, and the room you mentioned doesn't look like anyone has been init for six months. The only thing I found that was at all out ofthe ordinary was this." He fished in his pocket, and brought outa single cartridge casing for a nine millimeter handgun. "But itcould have been there in the grass for months, if not years."

Bill said, "So what you're saying is that you won't help me."

"I'm saying that I CAN'T help you, unless you can dig up some solidevidence. What do you expect me to do? Drop into General Scott'soffice tomorrow morning and say, 'Excuse me, sir, but are you aware ofany plans for a coup d'etat this week?'" He shook his head. "You bring me evidence, Bill, and I'll act on it; you know that. But without evidence, my hands are tied." He stood to go. "I'msorry."

"I understand." Jiggs started to walk away, and suddenly Billthought of something else. "Jiggs!" The Marine stopped andturned around, a questioning look on his face. Bill rose to his feetand walked over to face his friend. "Promise me one thing," he said. "If anything happens to me...look after Tara, okay? Make sure she'sokay."

Jiggs looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Youcan depend on that, Bill. No matter what." And he turned andwalked away.

"He didn't believe us."

Bill turned at the sound of Fox Mulder's voice, to see Dana and herpartner standing a few feet away.

"It's not that he didn't believe us," Bill said, returning to the parkbench to sit down again. "It's that he CAN'T believe us. It'sall too circumstantial, and there is no corroborating evidence." He briefly reviewed for the two FBI agents the substance of his conversationwith Jiggs, leaving out a few of the personal details.

Mulder nodded. "So we're on our own. Well, we're noworse off for having tried." He started pacing again, but insteadof making circuits of the carillon he walked back and forth in front ofthe bench. Dana stood quietly watching him.

"We've got to approach this from a different angle," Mulder said, continuingto pace. "We've got to figure out where that zip disk is, and themost likely way to find it is to find the Gunmen." Dana had finallyexplained to Bill, earlier in the day, the meaning of this term. "But how? We can't just knock on every door in Washington. Yet there's something there; I can feel it. I just can't quite SEEit." He shook his head angrily. "This is making me nuts --"

Abruptly, he stopped pacing, and stood with his back to Bill and Dana. Dana said, "Mulder? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, I think maybe it is." Heturned around to face her. "Scully, work this out with me. Byers, Langly and Frohike have been taken, check?"

"Well, yes, but Mulder, if the Consortium got them, you know as wellas I do --"

"Yeah, yeah," Mulder said, cutting her off with a wave of his hand. "If Cancerman and his pals got them, they're dead, and the disk has probablybeen destroyed, and there's nothing we can do about it. But let'sthink about that a minute, shall we? Let's work this problem as ifit had a solution. Suppose this whole operation has nothing to dowith the Consortium at all? Suppose it's just a bunch of generalswho have a hankering to have their mail delivered to 1600 PennsylvaniaAvenue? THEY might be more reluctant to kill if they don't have to."

"But Mulder, the hit squad --"

"Sure, the hit squad. But that was a surgical operation; a classicpiece of wet work. They knew where we were, and they knew that atleast some of us were armed, and so they took no chances. But theycan't have a Krycek on every street corner; more than likely the Gunmenjust ran afoul of an APB or something, and were initially hauled in tothe local jail, and only later were turned over to the bad guys."

Dana shook her head. "I still don't see what this is gaining us."

"So the next question," Mulder went on, ignoring her objection, "iswhere they would have taken those three AFTER the cops or whoever turnedthem over." He paused and thought for a minute. Then, verysoftly: "And I think I know the answer to that."

"Mulder," Dana said, "you're not making any sense."

"Yes, I am," he said. "Yes, I am! Come on, Scully, workwith me on this. Suppose YOU were running the coup. D-Day iscoming up, maybe only a few more days, and you've got some people you wantto make disappear, but you donÕt want to kill them. What would youdo with them?"

"Quantico?"

Mulder shook his head. "Not likely. There's too much goingon there, preparing for the big push. You might not have anyone availableto watch them there. THINK Scully. Remember your counterespionagetraining from the Academy. What did the Soviets used to do with peoplewho were inconvenient but not worth the trouble of shooting?"

Suddenly she got round eyed. "St. Elizabeth's!" she whispered.

"Bingo!"

Bill broke in. "St. Elizabeth's? I don't get it."

Mulder opened his mouth, but Dana cut him off. "St. Elizabeth'sis a mental hospital, Bill."

"I know THAT. But what's the connection with Langly and Byersand Frohike?"

"Under the Soviet regime," his sister explained, "psych hospitals wereused as places to warehouse people who had become inconvenient, but whothey didn't want to kill for some reason. It had a lot of virtues,from their point of view: They could pretend that the individualwas 'ill' rather than politically dangerous; they could even let his familyand friends visit him, and since these 'patients' were usually kept druggedto the gills, it wasn't hard to believe that they really were sick. And, of course, anyone with any savvy knew what was REALLY going on, andso the deterrent effect was there, too, all the more effective becauseit was almost subliminal." She took a deep breath, and turned backto her partner. "But Mulder, do you really think the Gunmen are atSt. Elizabeth's? Granted that it's an attractive notion, but --"

Mulder shook his head. "I don't know for sure," he admitted. "But I do know that they'd pretty damned well better be, because it isjust about our last hope." He started to tick points off on his fingers. "If the Consortium got them, they're dead. Even if it isn't the Consortium,if the plotters are more ruthless than I've surmised, or less squeamish,then they're dead. If they were taken to Quantico there is no fuckingway we will ever get them out; the place is just too well guarded, andright now the base is probably under a maximum security alert because ofthe pending operation. They won't be left in a local lockup becauseof the risk that the legal system might intervene and kick them loose. The only place they could conceivably be that we have any chance of gettingat them is St. Elizabeth's."

Dana nodded slowly. "I think you're right, Mulder. It allmakes sense. It would be nice, though, if we could figure out someway to verify that they're really there, BEFORE we go in with guns blazing."

"Yes, it would," Mulder agreed, "and I'm beginning to get a glimmeron how that might work, too. But right now it's just a glimmer, andI'm also hungry. My proposal is that we go find a cheap hotel roomsomewhere so we can get in out of this damned weather and maybe get somedecent food and rest. Then we can spend tomorrow planning and liningup whatever gear and information we're going to need, including tryingto find a way to verify that they're there in the first place. Thenif all goes well, we can raid St. Elizabeth's tomorrow night. Comeon; let's go."

And Mulder led the other two away from the monument and down the hill,just as the carillon started to ring the top of the hour.

*While these bells ring...*

THURSDAY

Stealing the ambulance turned out to be easier than Bill had expected. They waited for sundown, then took the Metro to Georgetown University MedicalCenter and loitered in the parking lot until an emergency vehicle arrived. Then, while the paramedics were inside unloading their charge and givingreport to the ER staff, they climbed into the ambulance, Mulder hotwiredthe ignition, and off they went.

"The FBI Academy syllabus must be a fascinating read," Bill had commented.

"Your tax dollars at work," Mulder had replied with a smirk.

Now the three of them sat in the cab of the ambulance, parked on a sidestreet three blocks from St. Elizabeth's. A return trip to the SalvationArmy store had scored black slacks and white button-down shirts for Mulderand Bill, which they hoped would pass for uniforms for the few necessaryminutes. They had decided that Dana's existing disheveled clothingwould allow her to get by as a distraught relative.

Best of all,>> Bill thought, I've got a gun.>>

He hadn't asked Mulder where he got the weapon; he knew that it wasalmost impossible to legally acquire a handgun in the District. TheFBI man had disappeared for twenty minutes while Bill and Dana had beenpicking up carryout Chinese, and returned with a .32 automatic and halfa box of ammunition. "Best I could do on short notice," he'd saidquietly as he passed the weapon over to Bill. "Don'tsay I never gave you anything."

"Everybody ready?" Mulder asked, bringing Bill back to the present. "Here we go!" And he threw the ambulance into gear and pulled awayfrom the curb.

It took less than two minutes to drive the remaining distance, and thenBill and Mulder were wheeling a gurney towards the main entrance of thehospital, Dana trailing along behind and wringing a handkerchief in herhands. They entered the building, and Mulder led the way past anelevator bank, past an emergency stairway, and up to the main receptiondesk, where a bored-looking clerk was reading a paperback with a pictureof an exploding spaceship on the front. At the sound of their approach,he looked up.

"May I help you?"

Dana elbowed her way to the front. "Yes. My name is DanaByers, and I'm here to pick up my husband, John."

The clerk looked puzzled. "Byers?" His eyes flicked overMulder, Bill and the ambulance gurney before returning to Dana. "Iwasn't told to expect a transfer tonight."

"I don't care what you were told," Dana said sharply. "My husbandis here, and I've come to take him to Georgetown Medical Center. Byers is his name; John Fitzgerald Byers." She turned to Mulder andBill. "Explain it to him," she said.

Mulder shrugged. "It ain't up to us, lady," he said in a boredtone of voice.

The clerk looked at Dana for a moment, then shrugged. "Just aminute; let me check." His fingers flew over the computer keyboard. Then he was shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Byers, but there'snothing here about a transfer tonight...and Dr. Van Ackerman has gone homefor the night." He looked back up at Dana apologetically. "I'mafraid you'll have to wait until morning."

Dana's lips tightened. "I am NOT going to wait until morning!"she said, raising her voice. "I am not leaving John in this, thisawful place one minute longer than necessary! I don't know who thisDr. Van Ackerman is, but I do know the law, and you cannot keep my husbandhere against his wishes!"

The man looked annoyed, and shrugged. "I wouldn't know about that,ma'am," he said. "I'm just doing my job. If you have a problemwith it, you can take it up with the Patient Rep. At eight a.m."

"This is outrageous!" Dana shouted, and she banged her left fist downon the clerk's desk.

Time seemed to stop, and Bill drew in a sudden breath. The clerkwas staring at her hand, and Bill could almost hear the wheels spinningin the man's head. Jesus!>> he thought. Weforgot to get her a ring!>>

The clerk looked back up at Dana, and now his features were cool andunreadable. "Ma'am, could I please see some I.D.?" Nobody saidanything, and after a moment, the clerk started to reach for the telephone.

Mulder's Sig Sauer seemed to appear from nowhere, pointed directly atthe man's head. "Will this do?" he asked. The clerk's jaw dropped,and Mulder went on, "Keep your hands where I can see them at alltimes. Now stand up and face the wall. DO IT!!" he roared,and the other man jerked into action, obeying Mulder's orders precisely. "Okay, that's better," the FBI man said. "Now, hands behind yourhead." Mulder stepped forward, produced a pair of handcuffs and expertlysnapped them into place. "Now lie down on the floor, and don't saya word; don't even think. Scully?" he added over his shoulder. "Having any luck?"

While Mulder had been cuffing the receptionist, Dana had moved behindthe desk and sat down at the computer terminal. Bill watched in vicariousfrustration as she stumbled her way through the unfamiliar menu tree, allof her attention focused on the screen.

"Scully!" Mulder repeated sharply.

"Dammit, Mulder, I'm trying," she said tensely. "Just give mea minute."

"We don't have a lot of minutes, Scully," he replied. The clerkstarted whimpering; Mulder turned back to him. "Shut up, you!" hesnarled. Then to his partner again: "How about it, Scully?"

"I think..." she said, the tip of her tongue sticking out slightly betweenher teeth. "Got it!" Her eyes rapidly scanned the words scrollingup on the screen. "Mulder, they're still here!" There was a noteof triumph in her voice. "Ward 9 East. Rooms...uh 23, 27 and17C." She jumped up from the desk. "Come on!"

"Just a second." Mulder dragged the clerk to an upright sittingposition. He looked the man in the eye, and hesitated just an instant. Then he said, "I know you're scared, and I'm sorry." Then he smashedthe barrel of his gun into the man's temple, and the clerk toppled overinto unconsciousness. Bill helped him drag the man's limp body overto the desk, and they stuffed him into the leg space.

"Come on!" Dana called again. She was already standing in frontof the bank of elevators, leaning on the "up" button.

A moment later the three of them spilled off the elevator into the ninthfloor atrium. There was a single door in the center of the far wall,with a small button next to it and a sign reading, "Please buzz for admittance." The door was locked, of course.

Mulder swore, and drew his gun again. The booming roar of theweapon echoed and reechoed in the enclosed space, and splinters of woodand plastic flew in all directions. Mulder fired again, and thistime the lock flew apart. Mulder pulled the door open, and they steppedthrough.

They found themselves in a long, narrow hallway leading off in bothdirections. A woman in a nurse's uniform was standing halfway downon the right, mouth hanging open in surprise, her eyes big and round assaucers.

"Freeze! Lie down on the floor! NOW!" The nurse'sface went white, and without a word she followed Mulder's instructions. Running towards her, Mulder called over his shoulder, "You two go findthe Gunmen; I'll see if there's anyone else wandering around!"

Dana turned and hurried down the hallway in the other direction; Billtrailed along in her wake, trying to look in every direction at once. They went past a deserted nurse's station, and suddenly Dana skidded toa halt in front of one of the doors that lined the hallway. "Hereit is!" she said, and pushed open the door.

The room was small and cramped, with a single bed and a small,rickety bureau situated along one wall. There were no windows, andno serious attempt had been made to decorate the room.

Someone was lying on the bed, wrapped tightly in a thin, gray blanket. Dana hurried to the bed, and Bill followed her.

"It's Frohike!" she said. "Help me!" And together they managedto turn the man over so he lay on his back. He stirred slightly,opened his eyes and looked up at them blearily.

"Frohike!" Dana said. "It's me, Scully. Dana Scully. Are you okay?"

Bill watched as the little man struggled to focus. "Dana..." hesaid, his speech soft and slurred. "Dana..." His eyes closedagain.

"Dammit!" she said. "He's been drugged. Frohike! Wake up! You have got to wake up!" Frohike's eyes fluttered open again andhe stared up at her. "Listen to my voice, Frohike," she said. "Listen to me talking to you. Listen to Dana, and try to stay awake. Can you sit up?"

A goofy smile slid across his face, and he nodded. "Bill!" Danasaid over her shoulder. "This is going to take a few minutes; gosee if you can find the other two!"

"Gotcha." Bill stepped back into the hallway, and continued downit in the direction they had been going. In seconds, he found room23, and burst through the doorway.

Langly was lying on the bed, hands locked behind his head, staring atthe ceiling. When he saw Bill standing in the doorway, his eyebrowsshot up. "Captain Scully?"

Bill said, "We're busting you guys out of here. Can you walk?"

"If I can't, I'll crawl," said the blond man as he swung his feet outof bed and jumped to his feet and ran for the door.

"Come on," said Bill, leading him into the hallway. "We've gotto find Byers."

"What about Frohike?"

"Dana's with him; looks like he's been drugged."

"He always was a troublemaker," Langly answered. Then they werein Byers' room and dragging him hurriedly out of bed. Fortunately,he was only sleeping, rather than having been sedated, and it took himonly seconds to come to full wakefulness and grasp the situation.

As they exited into the hallway, Bill asked, "Do either of you knowwhat happened to the zip disk?"

Langly shook his head, and Byers replied, "Frohike had it. At least,he had it when we were in the coffee shop. But he did NOT have itby the time they picked us up. I don't know where he put it; we weren'ttogether the whole time."

They arrived at Frohike's door just as Frohike and Dana came stumblingout of the room. Frohike still looked as if he weren't entirely awareof what was going on; one of his arms was draped around Dana's shoulders,and she was obviously holding him up by sheer grit and determination. Bill moved forward to try to help, but as soon as he touched Frohike thelittle man began to struggle.

"No!" Frohike protested. "No! 'M goin' with Dana! Dana!"

"It's okay, Frohike," Dana said, her voice calm and reassuring. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. But Bill needs to help us. You remember Bill. He's my brother -- Captain Scully. You needto let him help us."

Grudgingly, the little man allowed Bill to take some of his weight. As the group moved back up the hallway towards the elevator, Danaasked about the zip disk, and Bill explained that Frohike had apparentlyhidden it somewhere. They passed back through the damaged door intothe elevator atrium, and Langly moved ahead and punched the elevator button.

"Where's Mulder?" Dana demanded, looking around. The FBI man wasclearly not in the little room. Still struggling to help supportFrohike, she staggered back to the door. "Mulder!" she yelled. "Mulder! We've got them! Where are you?"

"Mulder?" Frohike was frowning. "Is Mulder here? Ithought you came to see me..." His voice trailed off sadly.

"Mulder!" Dana shouted again, and this time her voice cracked slightly. "God damn it, Mulder, we've got to go! Now!"

Frohike looked owlishly up at Bill. "She loves him more than sheloves me," he confided. "He's a redwood among saplings." Andhe started singing, loudly and off-key. "Now since my baby left me,I've found a new place to dwell --"

"Jesus!" Bill said. "Frohike! You've got to be quiet! They'll hear you!"

"Mulder!" Dana turned back to the group. "Langly, take thisarm; I've got to go find Mulder." She transferred her burden andran back through the door and disappeared down the hallway.

"Down at the end of Lonely Street at Heartbreak Hotel," Frohike sangon. "I'm so lonely, I'm so lonely --"

"Frohike!" Bill snapped, using his best commanding officer voice. "Be quiet!"

He looked desperately at Byers, but the other man only shrugged, andLangly said, "You may as well save your breath, Captain. Once hegets onto Elvis, there's no stopping him."

"-- I'm so lonely that I could die." Frohike took a breath, andthen launched into the second verse: "And tho' it's always crowded,you can still find some room --" He broke off suddenly, and lookedaround. "Where's Dana?" he demanded. "Where'd she go?"

The elevator arrived, and Byers stepped into the doorway to hold it. "Dana will be right back, Frohike," Langly said soothingly. "Shejust went to look for Mulder."

"Mulder," the little man said glumly, and he started singing again. "So if your baby leaves and you have a tale to tell, just take a walk downLonely Street to Heartbreak Hotel, where you'll be lonely --" Hestopped and frowned. "No, thas not right. Third verse. What's the third verse?"

Dammit, where were Dana and Mulder? This was taking too long;Bill could feel it. He looked over Frohike's head at Langly, andmade a command decision. "Let's get him out of here," Bill said. They'll probably catch up with us by the time we get outside."

They started to wrestle Frohike into the elevator, and he began to struggleagain. "Where're we goin'?" he demanded. "Where's Dana? I wanna see Dana!"

"Dana's downstairs," Bill said desperately. "We have to go toher."

"Oh." The little man quieted down, and let them lead him ontothe elevator. "Now since my baby left me, I've found a new placeto dwell: Down at the end of Lonely Street at Heartbreak Hotel --"

Bill groaned. "Christ, isn't there some way to shut him up?"

"Just be glad he isn't on one of his Barry Manilow jags," Langly saidas the elevator doors slid shut.

The car started moving, and Frohike broke off singing to say, "I heardthat, Langly." He turned his head and looked at his friend. "You jus' don' know good music when you hear it." He cleared histhroat, and started on another song: "This one'll never sell, they'llnever understand. I don't even sing it well --"

"You can say that again," Langly muttered.

"-- I try but I just can't." Frohike looked soulfully up intoBill's eyes. "But I sing it every night and I fight to keep it in. Cause this one's for you. . . this one's for you."

The elevator stopped at the first floor and the doors slid open. Bill and Langly hustled Frohike off of the elevator with Byers stridingbriskly alongside. Frohike continued bellowing out his song, whileallowing himself to be led to the front door. They were almost there-- just a few more feet -- when Bill heard a shout from behind.

"Hey! Who are you? Where are you going?"

"Shit!" Bill let go of Frohike and whirled around to see a securityguard walking briskly towards them. Out of the corner of his eyehe was aware of Langly staggering as he suddenly had to take Frohike'sentire weight, and Byers moving forward to help. Bill moved towardsthe guard, and tried to hang a conciliatory and embarrassed look on hisface.

"I'm sorry," he said. "We didn't mean to disturb anyone. I'm afraid my friend -- well, he's had a little too much to drink, andwe're trying to get him home." That story has more holesin it than a Swiss cheese,>> Bill thought, wincing internally. Butthe guard slowed his pace, and seemed to be considering it.

Abruptly a thumping noise could be heard coming from behind the receptiondesk, and Bill had a sudden visceral realization of how the captain ofthe Titanic must have felt. A few seconds later, the clerk Mulderhad slugged, his wrists still handcuffed behind him, squirmed painfullyout from under the desk. He looked up, saw the guard, saw Bill andthe other three men, and started yelling. "Stop them, Brad! They're kidnappers!"

The guard's eyes widened, and he reached for his sidearm, but Bill wasquicker, and in an instant he had the .32 Mulder had obtained for him pointedright at the man's heart. "Don't move!" Bill ordered.

The guard froze, and he and Bill stood transfixed and staring at eachother for a timeless moment. Then the guard opened his hands andpointedly moved them away from his sides. Remembering what Mulderhad done, Bill said, "Now lie down on the floor, and put your hands behindyour back, and no one will get hurt."

At that instant, Mulder and Dana burst from the emergency stairway. They took in the scene at a glance, and almost as if by telepathy, Danachanged course and ran up behind the guard, pulling handcuffs from somewherein the process, while her partner swept on by Bill to help Langly and Byers. Dana snapped the cuffs on the guard and forced him to lie down. Theclerk was still yelling, but she gave him one ferocious look and he shutup abruptly.

Finally, they made it to the parking lot. Mulder had the backdoor of the ambulance open in an instant, and he heaved Frohike up andinto the vehicle by main force, turning away as the little man fell tothe floor of the compartment. Langly and Bill followed, while Mulderand Byers raced around to the cab. Finally, Dana clambered into theback and pulled the door shut behind her.

"Everybody in?" Mulder demanded, and without waiting for an answer heturned the ignition and put the ambulance in gear. He had had theforesight to park facing outward, and so he was able simply to floor theaccelerator and head for the exit.

By the time they reached the street, they must have been doing fortyor better, and the rear end slewed wildly for a moment. The passengersin the back were thrown first one way, then the other, and Langly losthis balance and fell heavily across Frohike, evoking an indignant sqawkfrom the latter. Then the tires took hold again, and they careeneddown the street, leaving the hospital behind them.

Bill leaned back against the wall of the compartment and closed hiseyes. They'd made it. They'd actually pulled it off. Now if Frohike can just tell us where he hid the zip disk...>>

He opened his eyes and leaned forward. Dana had slipped down onthe floor and was now cuddling Frohike's head in her lap. The rockingof the ambulance as it sped down the darkened streets of downtown Washingtonseemed to have lulled him back to sleep.

"Frohike," Dana said softly, stroking his brow. "Frohike -- Melvin. It's Dana. You have to wake up now, Melvin."

His eyes fluttered open. "Frohike," he muttered, looking up ather with a frown. "Frohike. Not Melvin. Even made my...parentscall me Frohike." He giggled. "I learned that one from Mulder."

"All right, Frohike," she replied. "Now Frohike, you have to concentrateon something. You have to think; you have to remember. Canyou do that for me, Frohike?"

Frohike's brow furrowed, and he frowned again. "I'll try."

"Frohike, we need to know what you did with the zip disk. Do youremember the zip disk?"

"Zip disk..." Slowly his eyelids fell shut. Dana shook hisshoulder gently, and spoke his name again, and his eyes popped back open. "Dana!" he said, sounding puzzled. "When did you get here?"

"I've been here all along," she said soothingly. "I'm here withyou now. I know it's confusing for you, but you've just been drugged,and you're going to be okay."

His eyes narrowed. "Rat bastards!" he said. "They druggedme...Not enough to kill Mulder an' fire Dana...beautiful Dana....hot Dana...." His voice was almost a croon, and his eyes seemed to drift almost at random.

"It's okay, Frohike," Dana said. "That was a long time ago, andMulder didn't die after all."

He focused on her face again. "He was a giant, you know. He was a Redwood among saplings."

"Yes, he is," she agreed, smiling down at the little man. Thenher face got serious again. "Frohike, tell me where the zip diskis."

"Zip disk," he muttered. "Zip disk zip disk zip disk." Helooked up at her and smiled; then he started to giggle. "I hid it,"he said. "An' they couldn't find it." He continued giggling.

"I know you hid it, Frohike," she said. "But now we need to findit now."

He frowned suddenly. "Is okay that I hid it?" he asked anxiously. "I don' wanna make Dana mad."

"Dana's not mad, Frohike," she replied. "Dana's very pleased;she's proud of you. You did the right thing."

"The right thing," he said, smiling again. "The right thing. Dana said I did the right thing...." His eyelids started to droopshut again.

Dana shook him awake, and said quickly but firmly, "Frohike! Quick! Where did you put the zip disk?"

"Zip disk?"

"The zip disk, Frohike -- where did you hide it?" She shook hisshoulder again, and a note of urgency entered her voice. "Frohike,we don't have much time! They're coming, and we have to get away! Where's the zip disk?"

"Zip disk." His brow furrowed in concentration again, and thena light came on behind his eyes, and he started giggling again. "Igave it...I gave it...."

"Who, Frohike? Who did you give it to?"

"I gave it to the Gen'ral!"

Dana frowned. "The General?" she asked. "What general? What general did you give it to, Frohike?"

"The Gen'ral," he repeated. "The Gen'ral. That's who I gaveit to." He nodded in satisfaction. "Is safe there. Noone can find it."

"But we HAVE to find it, Frohike," Dana said. "We have to findit now, because they're coming and we have to get away. Frohike --where did you hide the zip disk?"

"I gave it to the Gen'ral!" he repeated. "Laughing." Andhe started to giggle again.

"Laughing?" She frowned...and suddenly a light came on in Bill'shead.

"General Lafayette!" he exclaimed.

Dana looked up at her brother, and her eyes widened. Then shelooked down at Frohike again. "Is that right, Frohike? Didyou hide the zip disk in Lafayette Park?"

He looked up at her, puzzled. "Gen'ral Laughingyet.. Gaveit to General Laughingyet. He'll keep it safe...." His eyesstarted to drift closed, but then they snapped open again, and he lookedup at Dana, a worried look on his face. "Dana!" he said. "Dana...didI do okay? Did we get away?"

Smiling, she replied, "You were wonderful, Frohike. You've savedeverything."

"Did we get away?" the little man repeated.

"Yes. Yes, we got away. You go to sleep now." Andshe planted a soft kiss on his forehead, and within seconds he was snoring.

At that moment the ambulance slowed to a halt. Bill looked upas the communications window with the cab slid open, and Mulder's faceappeared in the gap. "We're well away from St. Elizabeth's," he informedthem, "and I think we need to ditch the ambulance. It's got to beon the hot sheets by now." He started to turn away, but Dana's voicestopped him.

"Wait, Mulder!" she said. "Frohike says he's hidden the zip diskin Lafayette Park. We need to get there and find it before some touriststumbles over it."

Mulder hesitated, then nodded. "To Lafayette Park, as fast aslightning!" he said, and threw the ambulance back into gear and acceleratedaway from the curb.

# # #

Bill sat quietly in the study of Jiggs Casey's home, sipping coffeeand trying to get his head around the fact that he was actually warm andcomfortable. Jiggs sat at his desk, while Langly leaned over theMarine's shoulder tapping commands on the computer keyboard in front ofthem. Byers was in another chair, leaning forward with his elbowsresting on his knees, while Fox Mulder sat on the floor, back against thewall. Dana was tucking Frohike into bed in the Caseys' guest bedroom.

"This isn't going to be as spectacular as it might be," Langly was sayingto Jiggs. "You just can't get the kind of resolution and processingspeed on a Windows machine that you can on an iMac. The Windows OSis so fucking buggy it ought to be condemned. But I think you'llget the gist of it." He tapped a few more keys, then stood back asthe show began to unfold.

The retrieval of the zip disk had gone like clockwork. They'ddriven to Lafayette Park, and Dana had remained in the ambulance with Frohikewhile the rest of them searched. It had taken less than five minutes,and then Fox Mulder had appropriated another vehicle, and they'd all piledin and headed for Jiggs Casey's house.

The door to the study opened, bringing Bill back to the present. Dana slipped into the room and wordlessly sat down on the floor betweenMulder's knees, leaning back against his chest with a contented sigh andclosing her eyes.

"Jesus."

Bill looked back to his friend, and saw the familiar demo flashing acrossthe screen. "Blue is for outgoing messages, and red is for incoming,"Langly intoned, and Bill felt a tremor run through his body as he rememberedthe last time he had heard those words. He knew what Jiggs must begoing through right now -- knew it from personal experience -- and partof him wanted to reach out to his friend. But this was a journeyeach of them had to take alone, and so he forestalled himself.

At last the demo ended. Jiggs leaned back in his chair, staringat the screen with eyes that were no longer skeptical and wary, but shockedand haunted. At last he stirred, and he turned to look at Bill, andBill saw on his face and in his eyes the same expression which he knewthat he himself had been wearing since Monday evening. "I'm sorry,Bill," he said quietly. "I should have known not to doubt you." He paused, then nodded to himself, and reached for the telephone.

# # #

Forty minutes later, Jiggs and Bill were walking briskly down 15th Streetin downtown Washington. Jiggs' phone call had been brief and cryptic,and after he hung up he'd informed Bill that the two of them were expected"downtown". The others had had large question marks in their eyes,but Jiggs' tone and the expression on his face had invited no inquiries.

Now they were approaching the Treasury Department building, which stoodacross the street from the White House. Jiggs had offered no explanationon the drive downtown, and Bill had known better than to press him. Bill carried the zip disk in his coat pocket, having been rapidly briefedby Langly on how to run the demos.

The night was clear and cold, and overhead the stars twinkled brilliantly. It was well past midnight, and he and Jiggs were the only ones on the street. Bill felt a chill race down his spine which was due to more than just thecold. This is it,>> he thought. One way oranother, it ends tonight.>>

Jiggs led the way to a side entrance of the Treasury building; muchto Bill's surprise, the door was unlocked, and the two men walked insideand took a flight of stairs down to the basement. Jiggs led the wayalong a corridor, stopping at last in front of an unmarked, heavy metaldoor. The Marine produced a key -- it looked new and shiny, as ifit had recently been cut -- and unlocked the door, and they both steppedthrough the doorway.

The door opened into another hallway, but this one was plain and unfinishedlooking, with bare concrete floors and walls. Naked light bulbs dangledfrom the ceiling every twenty or thirty feet, producing a garish illumination.

Jiggs led the way down the corridor. There were no doors, no bulletinboards, no decorations of any kind. Just plain, concrete walls, andthe overhead light bulbs casting strange shadows as the two men strodebriskly along.

At last they came to another door, identical to the first, but insteadof using his key on this one, Jiggs Casey pressed a small, unmarked buttonon the wall next to the door. After a moment's pause, the door wasopened from the other side by a Marine Corps sergeant, and Jiggs and Billstepped on through into the room beyond.

Bill looked around and gaped. The room was laid out like a militaryheadquarters. Telephones, computers and other electronic gear seemedto be everywhere, and a map of the world hung on the far wall. Halfa dozen men and women in uniform moved around the room performing arcaneministrations to the equipment, and Bill felt his hair suddenly stand onend as he realized what room this was.

"That's right, Bill," Jiggs said softly. "This is the SituationRoom in the basement of the White House."

"Colonel Casey; thank you for coming so promptly." They turnedto see a man dressed in a business suit walking towards them. Hewas tall, with dark hair, and had hawk-like features. He reachedout and shook hands with Jiggs, then turned to Bill. "And you mustbe Captain Scully. My name is Bruce Lindsey, Special Assistant tothe President." Bill shook his hand numbly. "Now if you gentlemanwill please follow me..."

Lindsey led them across the Situation Room and through a doorway onthe far side. They passed rapidly down yet another hallway, and finallycame to a dead end with a single door in it. Two men in dark suitsstood guard over the doorway, and Bill felt another jolt as he realizedwho must be behind that door.

Lindsey spoke to the guards. "This is Colonel Casey and CaptainScully. They're expected."

Jiggs and Bill were quickly but expertly patted down by one of the SecretService men, then the other one twisted the knob and the door swung open,and Bill found himself face to face with the president of the United States.

"Jiggs," the president said, then glanced at Bill. "And you mustbe the Captain Scully I've heard so much about."

"Yes sir," Bill said, a strangled feeling in his throat. "Sir,I must apologize for my appearance. I --"

The president waved it away. "Don't worry about it, Captain; Iunderstand you've been rather busy the last few days." The man'slips quirked, and Bill realized suddenly that he was standing in frontof a human being and not some political avatar. It was a bit of ashock to him, and reminded him of the first time he had been confrontedwith the fact that even admirals sometimes had to use the head.

But the president was still speaking. "Captain, I understand youhave something for us."

"Y-yes sir," Bill stuttered, and his hand flew to his pocket. For a second he was unable to find the disk, and he almost panicked, butthen his fingers closed on it, and he drew it out of his pocket and handedit across the desk.

The president looked at the disk, fascinated, and turned it over inhis hands. Then he looked up at Jiggs. "Colonel Casey? Have you reviewed the materials on this disk?"

"Yes sir."

"And you concur with Captain Scully's analysis?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

The president sighed, and muttered, "Absolutely fucking incredible." His use of earthy language startled Bill, but somehow it seemed right,under the circumstances. The president handed the disk over to Lindsey. "Bruce, we'll want to have the staff review this, and I mean now."

"Yes, Mr. President." And Lindsey took the disk and left the room,leaving Jiggs and Bill alone with the president.

The president turned his gaze back on the two officers, and gesturedat a pair of straight chairs positioned in front of his desk. "Gentlemen,why don't you go ahead and have a seat; this may take a little while." He looked directly at Bill. "In the meantime, Captain Scully, I wantto hear your story -- all of it."

The two officers complied, and after another prompt from the president,Bill began to speak.

At first, he felt awkward, uncomfortable, as he had in Sunday schoolall those many years ago when he was called upon to recite. But ashe got into the tale, he found himself relaxing, becoming more confident,and the story started to flow as he first sketched the outlines, and thenbegan to fill in the details. He told the president everything: The mysterious summons from Dana on Monday evening; the chill he felt ashe realized what the data on the computer disk added up to; the hair-raisingescape from death Tuesday morning; the grueling search on Wednesday forthe missing Gunmen; his own despair when he realized that Jiggs didn'tbelieve him; the harrowing jailbreak at St. Elizabeth's; and finally thetriumph of finding the zip disk, hidden in some bushes in Lafayette Park.

Finally Bill fell silent. He felt exhausted, drained, as if hehad just re-lived those events all over again. The president rockedback in his chair, and studied Bill's face thoughtfully. At lasthe said, "Well, Captain Scully, it sounds as if you've had quite a week."

Normally, Bill would never have dreamed of saying anything other thanin answer to a direct question from his commander in chief, but somethingin the president's voice and manner seemed to invite comment. "Mr.President, I think that's a bit of an understatement."

The president barked quick laughter. He seemed to be about toreply when the door swung open and Bruce Lindsey came back into the room. His face was grim. "Well?" the president asked.

"It checks out, Mr. President," Lindsey replied. "Every bit ofit."

The president let out his breath in a slow sigh, and Bill realized thathe had been holding his own breath, as well. Without thinking aboutit, he rose to his feet, and Jiggs followed suit. The president seemedto be meditating, and his gaze was quite evidently focused on somethingthat no one else in the room could see. At last he looked up at thetwo officers.

"Colonel Casey; Captain Scully." He took a deep breath and shookhis head. "I want to thank you for bringing this to me. I knowthe risk you both took in doing so." He turned to Lindsey. "Bruce, I want these two officers formally debriefed before they leave."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"In addition," the president went on, still speaking to Lindsey, "Iwant their records cleared -- and the two FBI agents and the rest of thebunch, as well. Whatever they had to do to unearth this informationjust didn't happen. Got me?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

The president's eyes moved back to Bill and Jiggs, and he said, "I hopeI can depend on you men to be discreet. It would be extremely harmfulto the country if any of these events were ever to be made public." He hesitated, then added, "In fact, let's just make that an order. After the two of you have been debriefed tonight, neither of you is everto utter a word to anyone about the events of the past few days. There is no 'Site Y'; there were no unexplained troop movements; therewas no conspiracy against the government. Is that clear?"

He waited until the two officers had acknowledged the order from theircommander in chief, then he seemed to relax a little. "Very well,then." He stood and extended his hand. "I can't say this hasbeen a pleasure, gentlemen, because it quite frankly hasn't been. But I am glad you came." He shook hands with both men, and Lindseyushered them out of the office.

And as they walked back up the hallway to the Situation Room to be debriefed,Bill Scully suddenly realized that he was going to be a grandfather.

He was going home to Tara.

FRIDAY: Epilogue

Dana Scully heard the TV playing in her apartment before she had evenput the key in the lock, and she knew that Mulder was waiting for her. A soft smile crept briefly across her face, the smile that she never allowedher partner to see, and then she opened the door and stepped inside.

God, it was good to be home! She had never expected to see thisplace again, and it gave her a warm, happy feeling to walk through theapartment and see all of her things waiting for her, just where she hadleft them five days before.

Mulder was lying sprawled out on her sofa, watching the O'Reilly Factor. She moved over to sit next to him, unceremoniously dumping his feet onthe floor to make room. Earlier in the day, the president had heldan unscheduled press conference to announce the retirements of all fivemembers of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and now the talking heads were chatteringon and on about What It All Meant.

They should have us on that show,>> Dana thought. Aloud,she said, "Haven't you had enough politics for one week, Mulder?" He shrugged, and didn't answer. "Mulder, I thought we were goingto watch DINOSAURUS! tonight. You said it was going to be on USANetwork again." Still he didn't answer, and she slapped his knee. "Mulder! Are you listening?"

"I hear you, Scully," he said with a lugubrious sigh. He pickedup the remote control and changed channels. "But we HAVE seen thismovie before. Thirteen times, I believe."

Dana settled back in contentment as a brontosaurus appeared on the screen,and she watched as it trampled through the tropical jungle. She feignedobliviousness as Mulder pulled his feet up off the floor and put them onher lap. After a few moments, though, she decided to take noticeof the feet, and started gently massaging them. "Mulder," she said,"why do you suppose we like this movie so much?"

He looked surprised. "Why?" he repeated. "Because it's aboutus, Scully. This movie is about us. I thought you knew that."

"It is?" She raised her eyebrows and looked away from the screen,just long enough to see that he wasn't joking. "How is it about us,Mulder?"

He gestured at the screen. "We're just like the dinosaurs. We're creatures out of time."

"Oh." She thought about that for a moment as a caveman went runningfrantically through the jungle, carrying a woman over his shoulder in afireman's carry. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I guessI see your point." Another long pause. "Which one of us isthe brontosaurus?"

"Which one of us would you like to be the brontosaurus?" he replied,humor hanging delicately about the edges of his words.

"I'd like to be the brontosaurus," she said seriously. "I've alwaysliked the brontosaurus; she seems so peaceful. I'm always a littlesad when the tyrannosaurus kills her."

"So you envision me as the King of the Lizards?" Mulder asked.

She frowned. "No, that doesn't seem right, either. Maybewe can both be brontosauruses."

"You'd make a great brontosaurus, Scully." He paused for a moment,then asked, "Did you get any root beer on your way back from taking Billto the airport?"

She shook her head, still watching the screen intently. "No; thestore was all out. It must be getting popular."

"How about Rolling Rock? Do you have any Rolling Rock?"

"All gone."

He leered at her. "Iced tea?"

Laughing, she said, "No, Mulder. No iced tea. Maybe someday,but not tonight."

"That's okay," he replied, nodding wisely. "Iced tea is hard todrink. You either get too much sugar or too little; it's almost impossibleto get it just right."

"I guess that's true," she said. And after that the two friendswere quiet, and they sat together on the sofa watching television, farinto the night.

Fini