Chapter Nine

KOA Campgrounds, Wauchula, FL

June 5th, 2001, 9:47 p.m.

"So lemme ask you somethin', Agent Scully," Sheriff Clampett began and poked at the blue remains of the aliens with a stick.

"And that is?" she finished for him and knelt on her haunches with a Q-tip.

"How're we supposed to collect these bodies for your autopsies?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Maybe you oughta be usin' them things on your ears," he pointed to the Q-tip. "I said, how're we supposed to be collectin' the bodies if they're nothin' but this jelly?"

"That's very simple. Don't you have wet vacs?"

"Yeah, we do. That means an extra trip back to the office, though."

Scully dipped the Q-tip into the soil near one of the alien's remains. "Dr. Van Winkle is expecting the deliveries in fifteen minutes, Sheriff."

"So what?"

"The quicker you get the wet vacuum, the sooner you can go home," she snapped.

He chuffed at her snippy comeback and shuffled back to his squad car. "Yes, ma'am. I live to serve."

"Scully, do you think that your brother was able to make it?" Mulder questioned her and picked up one of the transmitting bracelets from the aliens' goo by a ballpoint pen to study it.

"I hope so," she sighed and stood.

"What're you hoping to get out of these autopsies?"

"Um...a reason why they died...?"

"But we already know, Scully. The marijuana made 'em pop just like alka seltzer and rice does with seagulls' stomachs."

"And you would know this...how?" Scully wondered.

"I'll have you know that as a boy I often performed scientific experiments. You mean to tell me that you never did any of those when you played with your brothers?" He twirled the bracelet around.

"Not really, but I will disclose that a certain sibling of mine loved to burn ants into the ground with a magnifying glass. Just how many of these poor creatures did you kill with these quote scientific experiments?"

"A handful, I guess. Scully..." He touched her arm and drew her attention to the object at the end of his pen.

"What am I looking at, Mulder?"

"I think it was one of their snow transmitters."

"What?" Scully's voice rose an octave.

"Yeah--I remember Farnor showing me one of them around his arm before he disappeared," Mulder answered her. "But then it was glowing some kind of well...I would guess green because I saw red lights. So are they red now?"

"Very."

At that moment, two airplanes came from out of nowhere and soared closer to the earth. Both Mulder and Scully's heads jerked up to the sky. A car door slammed shut scaring them, and Clampett came towards her with a shop vac in hand. "Here's what you wanted, Agent Scully. Is this gonna be big 'nuff?" he inquired.

"I suppose so. Thank you," she responded and took the vacuum from him. "Sheriff, there's no cord."

"It's got re-chargeable batteries in it. Black and Decker makes the darndest things these days," he laughed. "Whatcha lookin' at, Mr. Mulder?" He drew his gaze towards the ex-g-man.

"A pair of F-16s heading our way. Scully, what kind of planes does your brother fly?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." She bent down towards the alien sludge and turned on the vacuum cleaner.

"You can call me paranoid if you want, Scully, but I think those fighters are heading right for us."

She swept the hose over the blue gelatin nonchalantly.

"So what if they are?" Clampett shook his head and pulled out another blunt.

"Man, you really need to lay off of those things. Give the plant a break."

"They like bein' lit; like foxes love to be hunted."

Scully finally turned off the shop vac and separated the lid from the canister. "Guess I'm already filled up. Sheriff, was this empty before I started to use it?"

Clampett shrugged and lit up his joint without another word.

"What's wrong, Mulder, you've got your panic face on?" She closed the vacuum and set it onto the ground.

"Oh, it might have to do with the fact that those planes are getting closer to us," Mulder replied meekly and pointed to the F-16s that had just landed about two football fields away.

The planes slowed, came to a full stop, and the pilots disembarked from them down two step ladders. One of the pilots removed his helmet, tossed it back in the cockpit, and strolled right towards them purposefully. "C'mere, Shorty," Ctn. Scully called.

"Charlie?" Scully asked.

"Shorty?" Mulder wondered and scratched his head as he watched his partner run over to greet her brother with a bear hug.

The two walked back over to Mulder and Clampett arm in arm. "The guy over there smoking weed yet again is the local sheriff," Scully sighed. "And this..." she extricated herself from Ctn. Scully, "is Mulder. Mulder, this is Charles." She squeezed Mulder's right bicep gently as he held it towards Ctn. Scully for a handshake.

"Hmm...so this is the man who's kept my sister intrigued all these years," Ctn. Scully commented with a half-smile and accepted Mulder. "Nice to finally meet you."

"The feeling's mutual, Captain Scully."

"So, uh...why the surprise visit?" Scully inquired.

"Eh, well, we were in the neighborhood so to speak, and we thought we'd drop by for a couple of cold ones," Ctn. Scully said and signaled their attention to Carson trailing his path.

"Yeah, and some good Southern BBQ. You got any left?" Carson smiled.

"I got a couple of coolers stocked full in my trunk. Y'all kin dig right in," Clampett told them and handed his keys to Ctn. Scully.

"Mulder, we should get these specimens refrigerated as soon as possible. Charlie, I hate to leave you so soon, but, as you know, duty calls," Scully spoke up.

"No prob, Shorty. I'll see you on the 4th if not sooner." He opened up the police car's trunk and tossed a can of Heineken to Carson.

Mulder gave his rental keys to Scully. "I want to talk to your brother a little more, if I can." She rolled her eyes.

"You're not gonna get anything out of him, Mulder, so quit it while you're still on good terms with one of my brothers."

"She's right, you know," Ctn. Scully opened his own can and chugged some of the alcohol with a breath of relief after it went down. "I can't tell you much."

"I just wanna know how you figured out how to fly them."

Scully started the Mustang. "Mulder, if you're not in the car in about twenty seconds, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight," she warned sternly out an open window.

"Guess you'd better go," Carson chuffed.

"Just tell me--I'll handle her at my own risk," Mulder responded coolly.

"Just know that you've got nothin' to worry 'bout, Mr. Mulder," Ctn. Scully bit his lip. "Your visitors' transportation has been taken care of."

"But-" Mulder began and the car horn honked. He literally jumped and spun around. "I'm coming," he yelled and sprinted towards the Mustang.

As he situated himself in the car, Scully handed him her doctor's bag. "I just thought of something incredibly ironic, Scully," Mulder sputtered.

Scully pulled her seat forward and buckled herself in.

"My brother who works for the government was willing to help us?"

"Well, no, that wasn't what I was thinking about; I'd consider that as a carte blanche rather than irony. I was thinking that Sheriff Clampett did in fact save the world from destruction."

"Hmm..." she reflected upon his statement, shifted gears, and pulled off of the grass onto the campground's gravel road. "You're right, Mulder, that is ironic, considering that less than forty-eight hours before, he screwed up our one and only shot."

"Maybe the South isn't as bad as I thought it was."

"No, it isn't, Mulder. You're just been through a couple of bad experiences. Don't let them completely taint your views towards an entire region."

"Well, are you going to stay and help Dr. Van Winkle with those autopsies and crawl into bed without waking me as usual?"

"No, I don't think so. Let's just drop this wet vac off and be on our way to DC in the morning."

"The scientist in you has no curiosity whatsoever about these creatures?" Mulder leaned an elbow onto his door.

"Since I can't properly identify any organs, cell structure, or even body parts for that matter, I would have to say no."

"What about Lord Farnor? He's still out there somewhere--probably in Antarctica by now...or maybe he's on his way back," Mulder proposed.

"Hmm...that'll have to remain an enigma until I can get a proper 302 for the next time. In the meanwhile, I think I'd like to spend the remaining hours I have off after we get home tomorrow with our son."

"Would that be a mother/son day only?"

"Um...only if you wouldn't mind," Scully nearly cringed. "I think I need a day off from you, Mulder--please."

"Why?" He crossed his arms.

"I just need some...breathing room. Don't take this as me putting some distance between ourselves in our relationship...we've just been in very close quarters for the last five days..."

"Thought I showered this evening." Mulder sniffed himself.

She chortled through her nose and shook her head. "I don't want this to end at all...please, don't misunderstand me, Mulder." Scully stopped at a red light and finally gave him full eye contact. He took her right hand from the wheel and kissed her fingers.

"Okay, a deal's a deal--but fair's fair. Tell me why Charles can call you Shorty, get away with it, and not be pounded into mincemeat by your fists?"

Scully gave him an incredulous look as she lightly pressed her foot to the accelerator. "Because he's my brother."

"But he's your baby brother," Mulder observed. "Isn't that a lower position on the totem pole?"

She answered him with a silent shrug and kept her eyes to the road.

"Well, guess I'll have to keep trying on those pet names, then."

"Keep it up, and you're walking back to the bed and breakfast, Mulder."

For once, Mulder kept his mouth shut but smiled happily to himself thinking that he was the luckiest guy in the world.

The X-Files Office, Washington, D.C.

June 7th, 2001, 8:15 a.m.

The coffee pot's majestic smell welcomed Scully cheerfully as she strolled over the threshold. Reyes sat at Doggett's desk with an old x-file in hand, and without even looking up, she knew who it was. "Welcome back, Dana," she said sanguinely. "Coffee'll be ready in five."

"How did you..." Scully began and meandered over to a cabinet to pull out a clean mug. She's too much like Mulder.

"Because Doggett doesn't wear three inch heels."

"Speaking of the man, where is he?"

"Where else? Getting the morning mail."

"How did your house deal go down?" Scully wondered.

"Just fine, actually. By the time the new owner signed the papers, I got my original asking price," Reyes declared proudly.

"How'd you manage that?"

"I have a good real estate agent."

"Would you like some coffee, Monica?"

"Hmm, please and thank you," she nodded and turned a page.

"What're you studying with such fervor?" Scully asked, took the pot off of the burner, and poured the coffee into two mugs.

"That case you and Mulder had with the kid who could control lightning. Totally cool. Is he still alive?"

"I believe so, but he didn't leave his last path of destruction unscathed." She brought the coffee back and as she nearly spilled some, her eyes went straight to the floor. "Monica, when did the office get new carpet?"

"I think over the weekend," Reyes responded noncommittally, closed the x-file, and stood to claim her mug from Scully. "We were kind of surprised, too. I don't know if you noticed it either, but the walls have been completely repainted and spackled, too."

"Why?"

"Well, they did need to get done. I mean, they did a horrible patching up job after your office got hit with the fire about four years ago."

Scully sipped her mug and nodded with understanding. She glanced up at the ceiling and took a double take. "The tiles are new in the ceiling, too. Good grief, who had this all done?"

"I think I have an odd feeling that I know who-" Reyes started but never finished as the Don of the FBI, SAC Tony Capricci journeyed through the door.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted them both with a huge beam. "Do you like?" He swept his hand around the office flamboyantly. "I would've had the office walls done in pink, but then I remembered Doggett works down here, too."

"Yes, he does," Scully politely agreed and sat down at her bureau. "Thank you, Agent Capricci. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?" She began to search through her drawers.

"Oh, not much. I'm actually here to see Agent Reyes."

"Me? How can I help you, Tony?" Reyes set her mug down on Doggett's desk and traveled back to the coffee pot. "Would you like some?"

"No, but I'll take a rain check, thanks. In fact, that's what I was um...going to ask of you, Reyes."

"Monica, please, Tony. We're all friends here. Go on." She gave him a flashy smile and removed some non-dairy creamer from the cupboard below.

"Would you like to...have some Italian with me tomorrow night?"

Scully's head popped up from her search, and she slowly repositioned her body so that she could see both younger agents properly.

"Sure, why not?" Monica answered him optimistically and stirred in the cream.

"Is there a specific place you'd like to go, or would Bertolli's be okay?" Capricci turned the charisma up three notches.

"That sounds perfect. Is 7:00 too late?"

"Not at all. I'll pick you up at 6:30 so we can get stuck in traffic together for a while," he joked. "It'd almost be like parking, huh?"

Scully inwardly groaned and ran a hand in front of her eyes in a grimace.

"See you tomorrow night," Reyes told him as he strutted out the door, proud as a peacock.

"What's up, Doggett?" Capricci greeted his senior and shook hands with him in the hallway.

"Good to see ya, Tony. Hey, thanks for the remodeling," Doggett said.

"Don't mention it, Paisan. Think of it as a favor."

Doggett nodded in agreement, froze for a moment mid-stride, and watched Capricci disappear behind the elevator doors. He did have kind of a wise guy attitude, but he was a bona fide g-man. However, Doggett did have to wonder what Capricci meant by the word 'favor'; when he heard it, that usually was not a good thing coming from a wise guy's mouth. It was the proverbial ball and chain unspoken debt from a member of the Mafia. Everything's got a price from the Family, Doggett remembered.

However, as soon as he saw his companions busy in the office, he wiped all traces of his past life away. Both briefly looked up as he came in. Scully gave him a short but sincere closed mouth smile then but went back to work immediately. Reyes arose and actually went to hug him. "Morning, John."

"Hello, Monica. You find anything new and worthy of our interest?"

"Well, there's something in Allentown, Pennsylvania-"

"Oh, wait, I should've mentioned the fact that Deputy Director Kersh is back from his vacation. So, uh...we need to once again be careful of our 302 requisition forms," Doggett told the both of them.

"Oh, brother," Scully mumbled to herself. "How was your fishing trip, Agent Doggett?"

"It was good, thanks. I caught quite a few yellow perch. I understand you went with Mulder somewhere..."

"Florida."

"Did you get to relax?" Reyes questioned her.

"Not as much as I would've liked, but then again, I don't care much for Florida," Scully remarked. "Anything good in the mail, John?"

"Just a letter for you and Mulder. It's from Las Vegas, as a matter of fact. Do you know anyone out there?" Doggett handed her a business sized envelope, and she inspected the return address, which read: N. Stokes, Las Vegas PD.

One eyebrow quickly arose and set. "Yes."

She flipped the envelope over and slid it underneath an apple paper weight.

"Aren't you even going to open it?" Reyes inquired curiously.

"Later. I have to go through these expense reports first." Scully opened a huge stapled packet that had been sitting on her ink blotter, and Doggett sat in his chair across from his desk.

"Okay, Monica. What've we got that sounds like a partially legitimate 302?"

THE END