A/N: This is my first attempt at cross-over fic ever. It's always seemed to me that there were certain apparent character- and plot-wise correspondences between the Mulder – Scully - Fowley "triangle" and that of Lee Adama – Dee – Starbuck. Besides, the "ancient alien spacecraft, bearing ancient alien scripture, on an African shore (of all places!)" implication was just too tempting not to exploit in cross-over.

This takes place allegedly after Daybreak in BSG 'verse and through Biogenesis/The Sixth Extinction I, II arc in the X-files 'verse. Lee's POV.

Disclaimer: None of the characters, situations, plot-lines mentioned/alluded to in either series belong to me. Mulder's soliloquy is borrowed from the X-files episode 7.02 "The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati".

By proxy

The woman's silhouette, outlined against the blazing sunset, was so petite it almost made his heart skip a bit. He'd only met someone that diminutive once. He still couldn't quite trust himself around the memory of her, even in his dreams.

It was not the first time he dreamt of walking this deserted coast on the lonely planet they called home nowadays. But it was the first time the fabric of his dream would conjure company. As he drew closer he could discern fiery strands of her hair, ruffled lazily by breeze, against the matching backdrop of the sky.

He'd been expecting another woman, lost to despair over an obliterated world what seemed like a dozen lifetimes ago, to make an appearance in his night-time musings for so long, he wouldn't bet it was relief or disappointment that washed over him whence his breath released. There were not enough words to let the one, he mistook the lady here for, in on everything he desperately needed her to know. The anguish he'd fail to put it right haunted him ever since the last time they spoke, even in his dreams.

The unknown woman was ankle-deep in the water, regarding something just beneath the shallow surf with concerned focus.

- Can you read what it says? – it was a dream and introductions were, apparently, redundant.

He traced her gaze into the water and squinted at the half-eroded surface of what seemed like a Raptor hull, inscripted densely with aborted quotes and verses. Why, of course he could read it. The very first line of the Sacred Scrolls was securely drilled into every Colonial's memory:

- "Life here began out there".

She startled and bit off an unexpected smile. He raised a brow quizzically.

- What's so funny?

- Nothing. It just… sounds like something Mulder would say. He's very ill now. I have to decipher these scriptures asap – it ought to help …

The smile was instantly gone, her demeanor clouded with rue and poorly concealed worry. Veiled by it was a particular intensity and determined devotion the likes of which he'd also encountered but once in his lifetime. Whoever that Mulder was, he reckoned, the chap was one Hades of a lucky bastard to be graced with such affection. Lee Adama, of all people, could judge from experience. It suddenly dawned on him, an insight one only gets in dreams, or as a woeful afterthought:

- Does he appreciate your love?

It was a dream, he reminded himself, hence prodding arrogance was no big deal, but he recoiled inwardly nonetheless. She didn't owe him a heart-to-heart, or even a monosyllabic reply. But it was a dream, and as dreams go, one tends to open up to strangers on a sun-dried alien coast. He was almost not surprised, when she spoke with a pensive frown:

- I don't think so. There is someone in his heart… they go way back… She's everything I'm not…

He wondered if that Mulder-guy even knew what an idiot he was. He'd met someone that stupid once. Could face him in a mirror, were there any mirrors in this new wild world they agreed to call Earth. It all had happened before, it hurt to anticipate it would all happen again. Even in his dreams.

***

The dream was unlike the others he'd grown accustomed to. Not a wilderness, this time, to match the ones he hiked while awake. He was quite sure he'd never been to… the place appeared an apartment building, or something of the sort. While not particularly otherworldly, it was pronouncedly different from what he remembered from Caprica. A voice around the corner in the otherwise empty hallway made him skid to a stop. He dared a peek and caught a whiff of now familiar red mane in the doorway. The man towering over her tiny form and speaking was audibly vibrating with emotion, conviction and tentative hope all too familiar to Lee's own self:

"…The end of my world was unrecognizable and upside down... There was one thing that remained the same. You... were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant... my touchstone."

He leaned against the wall, grinning quietly, and released a sigh. He'll get that well overdue good-night's sleep, after all. It all has happened before, it all will happen again. And at least someone, somewhere, sometime will get it right…